


Keep Moving Forward

by storylip



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 195,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storylip/pseuds/storylip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating a German assault on Central, life moves on, but there are things still left undone, unsaid. Portals must be closed, a German Uranium bomb must be found and destroyed, while Amestrian/Xing intrigues must be maneuvered. Ed and Roy must navigate their worlds after The Invasion, but will they be able to defeat a growing threat to them both? Roy/Ed Ed/Russell</p><p>***Shamballa/2003 FMA SPOILERS***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***SPOILER ALERT for Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) and Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa***  
> ***MAJOR SPOILERS***  
> ***I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, its characters, or universe; I just like playing with them***  
> ***Rated M for mature content, language, references to sexual acts, and sexual content***  
> ***Yaoi Roy/Ed Ed/Russell***
> 
> Kind comments please. This is my first fanfic =)

***The Gate***

Central, Amestris, Nov 1917

Munich, Germany, Nov 1923

Roy and his team stepped out of the echoing stone tunnel to a vista overlooking the cavernous, dead city. Ruins littered the sunken floor. He was struck by all the lives lost here in the metropolis below Central and at the glowing portal shining brightly in the air, floating effortlessly above a deserted town square below where they stood.

"Lieutenants Breda and Havoc," he called to his dusty men caked in sweat and grime.

Their uniforms were disheveled from their efforts to dispel and defeat the foreign troops in metal armor and flying machines that had nearly destroyed Central. They had won the battle, but the day wasn't over yet.

"Sir," they spoke together behind him, stepping forward.

"Secure this entrance. Send teams to discern all ingresses and exits to this city. Lock them all down," he ordered. "This location is classified."

"Sir," they confirmed before turning to form their squads.

"Sergeant Fuery, set up a radio Comm station here to allow transmissions within this site to keep us in contact. Make sure each team has a radio. I don't want anyone getting lost," he commanded his tired, but determined, technician.

"Sir," Fuery saluted as he began setting up camp.

"Make sure that we have a secure line to the Führer's office as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," Fuery nodded his understanding.

"Captain Hawkeye, Lieutenant Falman, with me. You and your men are to secure the point of entry," he commanded as he pointed to the blazing portal below them, yet floating in midair. "Nothing else is to come through. Is that understood?"

"Sir!" they replied.

"Move out," he ordered.

"Sir," they chorused again.

Roy led them down the ancient stone steps to the city's heart, just below the luminous gate. Roy considered the architecture of the levitating portal as he walked along the flat town square beneath the glowing doorway. The thick metallic border was embroidered with golden inlays of curling lines and blockish designs. Four sets of two fasteners stamped each side of the square opening.

Could he simply blow up one or all of the eight couplings marking the edge of the gate? He considered his options, rubbing his jaw in contemplation. Glancing down to the floor beneath his target, he took in the inactive transmutation circle.

Well, that would have to go.

He wondered how he was going to get rid of the gate and the circle. The center of the transmuted etching already showed debris and cracks in its center, but Roy needed to make sure no one would be able to remake this circle.

As he made his assessments, he noted the efficiency of his men and those they commanded. They made their way around the perimeter of the circle, leaving him to his musings as he walked the array's rim.

He was proud that none of them were gawking like children at the unusual advent of the portal. If he had had any concerns of a leak to the public about the gate, they would have been dispelled by the effectiveness and professional nature of the soldiers around him. It felt right to have his men with him once more.

"General," a young private called.

Roy looked over his shoulder as the uniform approached. He was holding something in his hand. As the man grew nearer, a sinking feeling filled Roy's gut. The private had a handful of Red Stones. Roy took a deep steadying breath and stilled his features. These were no ordinary stones, they were created from alchemical catalysts and human lives. How in the world had they ended up down here?

"Sir, I found these Stones littering the area. They seem to be foreign in comparison to the other rock samples I have already collected."

"Private Wolfe, is it?" Roy asked the young man.

"Sir," the man's eyes lit up to realize that the infamous Flame Alchemist knew his name.

"Good catch, Private Wolfe," Roy praised, knowing how important it was to know the names of those he commanded. It was one reason men became loyal to him. They knew he cared about each of them and wouldn't use them as cannon fodder. "I want you to take a Section of 10 soldiers and collect every Red Stone you can find. If they are out of reach, mark their location in detail. Make every effort to get each ounce you can find. Use your med bag tweezers if you have to," Roy said.

"Sir," Wolfe saluted and left to fulfill his new duties.

Roy would keep an eye on this man; he had a sharp sense. If he did the sweep well, Roy would recommend him for a field promotion to Lance Corporal or even Sergeant at day's end.

"Hawkeye," Roy called spinning around to look for his number two. He had missed her by his side, always at the ready.

"Yes, General," she said as she walked up to him. He'd already told her not to call him that. He was just an enlisted man, but he'd have to let it go, otherwise he wouldn't be able to command this mission and close the gate, like he'd promised.

"Put a man on each entrance with a set of tweezers and an empty pack. Seems there are a number of Red Stones scattered around the area. I don't have to tell you all the trouble Fullmetal went through when dealing with their power in Xenotime. I want every soldier's pockets and boots checked before leaving this cavern. Every ounce needs to be secured," he told her. "Have them report to Private Wolfe."

"Yes, sir," she saluted and turned giving the order over her radio. She knew how much of a threat those Stones could be. Even if she didn't, she would know by the general's hushed, somber tone and the shadow cast over his eye that he was worried, even behind that placid face.

Returning his concentration to the center of the alchemic circle to get the measure of the design, Roy crouched down to touch his fingertips to the ornate carvings. If they were in fact cut into the stone, it would be harder to destroy, but if they were drawn, he could burn the sketching off the rock face. He felt the rough edges of the painted rock face, nicking his finger slightly on a jagged edge.

A single drop of blood smeared along the depicted array. Taking everyone by surprise, the circle glowed blue for a moment before changing to a crimson, stinging Roy with a sharp scarlet alchemical discharge, a rebound.

All sounds of men at work stalled, and the crackling of power played loudly into the silence. Roy stepped away from the edge. The circle quieted again a moment later, but Roy was shaken. He wasn't going to take any more chances.

"Stand back from the circle," he said unnecessarily, as all the soldiers had taken cover.

Wiping his finger on his handkerchief, he tugged on his arrayed gloves and stood firm.

SNAP!

He clicked his fingers and thumb. Fire raced out to the painted ground smudged with his blood, leaving scorch marks along the pavement. It obscured the blood stained design, and Roy raised his hand again.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

It looked like the Earth itself was on fire. He used his alchemy to burn all the remaining lines into blazing charred blackness. The flames had burned so hot the stones looked melted together.

Once satisfied that no one would be able to read even the hint of a pattern, he let the flames die out, turning his attention to the shining yellow gate. It floated there with no physical supports, taunting the fabric of reality.

Roy considered the task at hand as those around him began to move again, missing the looks of awe in his soldiers' glances. He was confident that if he did destroy the couplings, it would cause the supports that were holding the gate open to fail; however, he was unsure if that failure would lead to the closing of the gate or a widening of an uncontrollable rift between worlds.

After seeing the way the circle had reacted to his blood, he was sure the power fueling the portal was a primordial one. Blood had been used in ancient alchemy to fuel transmutations or to control the reactions, whereas modern alchemy relied on the simplification of runes and circles to perform the same processes. Today's streamlined arrays allowed the alchemist's will to direct the manipulation of matter more directly, rather than rely on the brute force blood provided. It was the difference between a water skimmer bug stepping on the surface of a lake and a man like Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong wielding a sledge hammer.

He would need to do some more research before he could move forward. He needed to know which pressure was being exerted on the portal. Was the frame pushing the rift from the center outward, in which he could destroy the couplings and be done with it? Or, was the frame pressing inwards as if containing the portal? If it was the latter, he would definitely need to find another way of closing the gate. Perhaps he could transmute the frame to synch closed, like a drawstring?

"General Mustang, sir, your secure line to the Führer's office is connected," someone from the communications team with Lance Corporal pips on her shoulder said. He thought the woman's name was Whitworth.

"Thank you, Lance Corporal Whitworth," he acknowledged as she held out the line to him. He noted her posture rise just a little. Good, he'd gotten her name right.

"Corporal Mustang, sir, or should I call you 'Brigadier General Mustang?' Everyone else is," came a familiar female voice.

"Really," he stated more than asked. He had figured as much. When he had arrived at the front of Central Command to a strained defensive line, he had snapped his flames and given orders, orders that were followed as if he had not given up his command two years ago. "Sheska, I'm sure it will be settled soon enough," Roy remarked.

"Führer Grumman is on his way, sir," replied the Führer's secretary.

"I see," he considered. "Maybe you can help me with something before you connect me. Have you ever read anything on portals to other worlds, Sheska? More specifically on the portals themselves and what keeps them open?"

Why go to 10 different libraries when one calls you? He hoped Sheska's photographic memory might help him save a couple of weeks in the dusty restricted sections of the State Alchemists' libraries.

"Um… actually, I did read some theory papers on trans-dimensional portals," she paused. He imagined that she put her finger on her chin, looking up and to the side, as she remembered all the faded bound manuscripts verbatim. "They seem to all agree that these portals are theoretically possible, but their construction is under debate.

"Arguments appear the most contentious about the pressure needed to keep them open," she deduced. "The power required to open, much less create a permanent portal, would be astronomical; however, a Professor Westland argues that older alchemic arrays may hold the key to create a circle able to control that much power. The only problem would be making sure that the portal created had the necessary strength to keep it from closing in on itself. If you look back at the histories…" she continued.

"Wait, go back," Roy interrupted. "So the debate is not on the direction of an open gate's pressure, but on the power source to create and maintain it? Do, they all agree that the portal needs to be strong enough to stay open, not to restrain an expanding force?"

"That's about right. I guess they all think that portals need to be held open, not kept from widening further," she concluded.

"Excellent," Roy cheered inwardly. That solved one problem; all he had to do was break the frame of the gate, and it would collapse inwards on itself! He put his hand over the receiver. "Hawkeye?" he called.

"Sir?" she walked over, perplexed by his upbeat tone.

"Remind me to send Sheska some flowers when we get back above ground," he smirked.

"Yes, sir," she said rolling her eyes but smiled at his exuberance. He had made a complete about-face from his earlier worry; Sheska had given him some superb news.

"Sheska?" he turned his attention back to the phone.

"Yes, Brigadier General?" she asked.

"Know anything on Red Stones or Red Water?" he asked, pressing his luck.

"Sorry, sir. I haven't had a chance to read those files yet," she sounded bereaved. "But I remember one of the authors on the top of my pile. His name was Nash Tringham. I hope that helps," she said distractedly. "Oh, and here comes Führer Grumman, sir."

"Thank you, Sheska. You have been enlightening," Roy said with a smile on his face. Hadn't Fullmetal run into the Tringham boys in Xenotime? Yes, something about completing their father's work and pretending to be the Elrics to do it. Roy would have to look up the young men when he was done here. He put his hand over the receiver again, "Hawkeye?"

"Sir," she said from right behind him.

He spun around, and mouthed, 'Find the Tringhams' at her as Grumman came on the phone. She nodded and left him to his call.

"Ah, Mustang, m'boy," the Führer toned over the line.

"Führer Grumman, sir," he spoke aloud. "I have an update for you on the point of invasion."

"Good job, Mustang. Now tell me your progress," the Führer ordered.

"Sir, we have locked down the location of the breach. All entrances have been secured. The transmutation circle used to open this side of the gate has been destroyed. Red Stones have been identified and are currently being collected. The portal itself is still open, but an attempt to close this gate is about to commence, sir," Roy reported. "Fullmetal and his brother, Alphonse, are on the other side working to close the doorway there," he said more softly.

"Ah, good man, that Fullmetal. Remind me to give him a promotion, would you?" Grumman sympathized. "Finish what you are doing there, m'boy, then come find me at Central Command. Seems we need to straighten out your rank and State Alchemist status," the man chuckled. "The Civilian Assembly is clamoring for the Generals' Council to reinstate you. Might get a little dicey with you coming back to Central at the rank of Brigadier General and named Flame Alchemist. You up for the challenge, Mustang?"

"Sir, I will serve my country in whatever capacity she may need me, sir," Mustang recited as he straitened his back and popped his chest out a little, but kept a neutral tone in his voice and a blank cast to his face.

"Alright, Mustang, alright. At ease," Grumman laughed again. "Just come find me when you're done. I've had Sheska draw up the paperwork just now, and a moment ago the entire Generals' Council voted to authorize your reinstatement. All you'll need to do is sign."

"Sir, I'd like my old support team with me, if possible," Roy requested while the iron was still hot.

"Of course you would," Grumman exhaled. "Well, if they want back in your command, have them submit for a transfer. I don't think the Council will be able to deny you anything right now."

"Thank you, sir," he said as he ended the call. He turned to see Hawkeye smiling at him. "Hawkeye, clear the area."

Once the men were at a safe distance, Roy was poised to snap. He took a deep breath and hoped that Fullmetal and Alphonse would forgive him as he snapped his fingers, aiming his fire at the couplings surrounding the portal. Almost like a vacuum, the excess flames were pulled into the gate. Roy reeled them in, and with pinpoint precision, destroyed all eight couplings simultaneously.

Time stood still for a split second before a deep groan was released into the waiting, forgotten city. With a snarl, the frame holding the portal open came ripping and crumbling inwards, like a dam of matter pouring into the opening between the worlds in a rumbling cacophony of unknown sounds. It snarled and groaned, scrapping to prevent its demise as it folded in on itself, clawing wildly at the space above the abandoned city. With a final sharp clap that echoed through every chest, the gateway was there no more.

 

* * *

 ***Eating Crow***

Central, Amestris, Nov 1917

Munich, Germany, Nov 1923

"Hey, Al. Can you tighten the rope on that right connector?" Ed shouted, golden ponytail swishing behind him as he circled the edge of the opening in the middle of the floor, just below the floating portal. The square gate levitated evenly with the third floor landing of an opulent German villa.

"Ok, Brother," Al's young voice rang out over the open space. His dark olive eyes and long, dirty blond hair brimming over the far edge of the gate's frame.

Rubbing his chin, Ed considered the construction of the gate as he gazed up to it. The frame of the portal was a warm metallic square with two couplings on each side. Within its confines, a yellow glow of powerful waves oscillated.

It was weird having a glowing portal floating six stories above the floor of the subterranean rocket factory. But really, it was just weird to have a floating trans-dimensional portal.

Ed and Al had done a lot of reading during their search for ways to get their bodies back, most of which they had decided were useless. In fact, they had laughed their asses off at some of the crackpot theories they came across, like those of Professor Westland and his ideas on trans-dimensional travel.

Well, they'd had to eat crow now that they knew trans-world travel was not only possible, but Ed and Al had lived through the journey. What was it, five times now for Ed? Twice fighting Dante, once to give Al back his body, and twice again through this specific gate, the one they were trying to destroy.

Ed shifted his attention to the couplings. If Professor Westland was right, then all he and Al had to do was destroy all the fasteners in one move, then the gate would collapse in on itself, closing for good.

Nodding to himself, he turned, grabbing the barrel behind him. Raising it to his shoulder, he crossed to the stairs and climbed to the third floor.

They had to hurry, though, and do it before Lieutenant Hess got back. They had to make sure Hess didn't find them here either. That block of a man was superstitious, ignorant, and quick to shoot; it was a bad combination. He was sure to react badly if he were to find Alphonse Elric, Alfons Heiderich's doppelganger, alive and four years younger than the man he had shot dead earlier tonight.

Since Eckhart was dead and Haushofer was not interested in pursuing a trip to Amestris (since it wasn't Shamballa and the Germans had gotten the shit kicked out of them), Hess was the only one leading the Thule Society now.

Ed knew they were short on time, though. He walked the gangplank connecting the third floor landing to the floating gate and put down the barrel. He leaned over the edge of the frame, pulling the loose rope, looping it over the new drum he had brought.

"Brother, wear your safety harness!" Al shouted over the roar of the open portal.

"In a minute, Al, I have to tie this end off before, otherwise it'll get in my way," he said.

Man, was it fucking great to have Al back, even if it was to nag him. The golden eyed man smiled to himself as he leaned down to tighten the rope around the left coupling.

A burst of fire came ripping out of the gate, making Ed lose his balance in his surprise. His feet got tangled in the ropes, and he slipped off the frame.

"Brother!" Al cried as he watched helplessly.

Grabbing erratically for anything to stop his descent, Ed fell backwards. Free-falling, his arms flailing wildly, he caught hold of a loose cord with his prosthetic right hand. The sudden stop as he grabbed hold yanked his shoulder with a sharp jolt. He slid down its length, using his momentum to swing to the ground floor landing, just outside the gaping hole in the center of the floor below the gate.

"Fucking Mustang!" He yelled as he touched down. "Get off that damn thing, Al!" He waved his free arm then gripped his pained shoulder where metal met flesh. "If Mustang's in the middle of destroying their gate, who knows what will happen to this one! He might set off the barrels!" He shouted to his brother.

He should have known that bastard would use his damn flames.

The hollow building echoed with a groaning, scrapping, gnawing noise. It sounded like the gate was a wounded animal, and it was pissed. A few seconds later, Ed was joined by his younger brother on the ground floor. A final loud clap resonated to stillness. The remaining gate seemed unmoved, but whirled slower, with much less suction. Well, that was quite the show. No lightning, but lots of thunder.

"Well, at least Brigadier General Mustang was able to close their side," Al commented optimistically.

"Yeah, well," Ed spoke with a deviant smile. "Now it's our turn."

An hour later, the Elric brothers lit a fuse and ran for cover. They both covered their ears as the sparkling line separated into eight different paths and reached the barrels of rocket fuel tied to each coupling on the gate's frame.

With a string of wild percussive beats, metal snarled and shrieked. Ethereal clatter bounced off the stone walls amplifying the noises. Their sight was filled with the world rushing into a pinpoint until there was nothing left. It all ended with an irrevocable clap that echoed in their hearts.

'And there goes our only way home,' Ed thought defeated.

There was a long pause while the brothers looked at the space where the path home had just been a moment ago. The portal between worlds that had cost their father his life, along with three homunculi, was gone. A gate to a war torn Central was closed for good. They had done what they came here to do: close the door and protect their home.

Now there was no going back.

"Wow," Al whispered into the deafening silence. Looking to Ed, Al asked, "So, now what do we do, Brother?"

Ed took a deep breath as he turned towards his younger brother.

"Let's go back to my apartment," Ed replied sullenly as he thought about the little place above Gracia Johann's flower shop that he had shared with his dead best friend. He would never call it 'home.' "I still have to make the arrangements for Alfons'… for Alfons'… for the funeral," Ed's voice cracked a little.

Officer Hughes (Maes Hughes' German doppelganger) and Noah (Rose Thomas' psychic double) had taken Alfons' body to the funeral home while Ed and Al had begun work on closing the gate. Seemed Officer Hughes had had a change of heart, seeing Alfons like that. Ed's new German allies had said they would take care of Alfons until he could be there.

Ed couldn't believe he was still on his feet after the day he had had. Actually, he had only slept a few hours in roughly 48 hours. He had been investigating Haushofer's villa the day before yesterday when he had found their transmutation circle. He'd accidentally activated it when a stupid ass smear of his blood from his cheek had been transferred to the circle via a bloody smudge on his gloves, returning dead Thule soldiers from Amestris.

After hearing the commotion, fucking Hess had shot at him. And not just that fuck head; all the men Hess commanded had opened fire. To escape the bullets Ed had hidden in the pile of dead metal clad men; he'd found Al there, alive, albeit attached to armor again. Once they had escaped the barrage, Ed and Al had had one brief moment of peace by the river before Al's soul returned to Amestris. The departure had left Ed alone again, but relieved his younger brother was alive.

When he had gotten back to his apartment that morning, Ed had gotten a call from Fritz Lang, and he'd made the long round trip between Munich and Berlin. The two had talked about Thule and parallel worlds, but in the end, Ed had basically called Fritz a coward, not wanting to stick his neck out to prevent chaos in Germany, and Ed had left.

When he had gotten back, he'd grapped a few hours' rest before dinner at the beer hall. His neighbors had sidelined him with the news that they were going to try a coup de ta that night and that Noah was helping them. Fritz, who had evidently driven down to Munich after their chat, had saved him, helping him fly over to the Thule Society's villa. Ed had hoped to stop them from opening the gate, a part of the coup, only to have Hohenheim… no, his dad… sacrifice his life and Envy's to send Ed home.

Seeing his father die in front of him, with nothing he could do, Ed had fallen to his knees in his grief. Eckhart, the driving force behind Thule, had shot him in the prosthetic arm, seeing no more use for Ed. He had been knocked unconscious by the fall from the second landing overlooking Alfons' factory in the villa's basement. Finding Ed unconscious, Alfons had strapped him to a rocket and sent him home through the portal.

When Ed had arrived, Winry had already been there to fix him up like always, replacing his prosthetics his father built him with new automail. After that, he'd had to run off to fight rocket powered airships in the battle field of Central with his alchemy available to him again. Once Mustang, Al and he had beaten Eckhart, he had come back through the gate.

Upon arrival, he had found Alfons dead, a grieving and repentant Noah, as well as a despondent and shot Haushofer. He also discovered a stowaway, his brother Al, but this time, the thirteen-year-old was flesh and bones. It was weird that Al looked thirteen instead of seventeen, but Ed had been so happy to have his brother back, he didn't care.

Since then, they had been working all night to close the gate and paint over the ceiling's transmutation circle. Now, it was finally time to go to sleep. Then he would have to deal with the details of burying his best friend.

It was exhausting just thinking about it all, and his body was beginning to feel the strain.

"Alright, Brother. Let's go," Al agreed as he placed his hand on Ed's shoulder in consolation. Al didn't know the man who had been Ed's confidant, the man who had been his doppelganger, and the man who had given his life to send Ed home, but Al knew that his brother had lost someone important.

"Rose, I mean, Noah said she'd have food ready by the time we get there. You'll feel a little bit better after you have something to eat and get some sleep," Al promised. It was still confusing for Ed's younger brother, having people he knew, yet didn't, going around with the same faces but different names.

Ed, feeling his sleepless hours, turned to Al, sad to have lost so much, but happy to have him back.

"Yeah… alright, Al. Let's go."

As they left, threw a lit match into the Thule Society's library, sparking the fuel they had poured earlier, burning the secrets of how to open the gateway between worlds. Now only four knew: Ed, Al, Haushofer, and Hess.

 


	2. Chapter 2

***Playing the Game***

Central, Amestris, December 1917

Munich, Germany, December 1923

A hand flourished a pen across the page. A dark haired man sitting behind a large wooden desk, signing yet another order. How many did that make today? 50? 100? It was hard to keep track, especially when they all referred to the same topic: cleaning up Central City.

When an army of metal plated soldiers came from under Central and waged war on an unsuspecting populous, many lives were lost. The city was in tatters, just like Lior had been and Ishbal years before that.

The Brigadier General signed again. The process of rebuilding the Amestrian capital was a trying job. How could one single day's assault cause so much damage? The Invaders, as the press were calling them, had armed flying airships, armored warriors, and weaponry that were all unknown elements. Their surprise attack on Central had only lasted hours, but the devastation had been catastrophic.

Ever since that day, the city had become a construction and humanitarian nightmare with winter upon them. While it was true that nothing outside the city was effected (thank goodness), orchestrating order through the widespread panic and chaotic metropolis had been difficult to say the least. Not to mention all train lines fed through Central.

Additionally, there had been unfavorable initial reaction from the brass that an enlisted Corporal Roy Mustang was calling the shots. However, his efficient orders had saved their collective asses, so they had little ground to stand on in refusing his reinstatement.

That was especially true when those orders had been witnessed by citizens that were screaming their praise that the Flame Alchemist had saved the city from near destruction. It really was quite nice of the brass to given him back his rank and State Alchemist's pocket watch, particularly with the Civilian Assembly breathing down their necks. How could they refuse him anything he asked? He let out a huff and smirked to himself.

So, here he sat with his command intact and a mountain of paperwork in front of him to prove it. He shook his head and began reading the next order before signing it.

A knock sounded on his door.

"Enter," he called.

Hawkeye crossed the threshold, and he warily eyed the additional stack of forms she carried.

"Sir, you have a meeting with Major General Hakuro in an hour, and the blue prints have been approved," she announced.

"Very good, Captain," he nodded resolutely. While he was glad the plans were ready to be implemented, he was not looking forward to his meeting.

"Were you able to get the information you needed from your phone call with the Tringhams, sir? The connection was clear when I put the line through, but the elder son was being difficult." She pushed for information, probably wanting to know if the lead was worth the effort it had been for her to track them down, Roy decided. "Should I bring them to Central?" she asked.

Roy thought it over before replying.

"I don't think that will be necessary. I had an interesting discussion with the older boy, Russell. He was as open as any other alchemist would be with his previous life's work, especially since it is illegal, but once he realized I was Fullmetal's commanding officer he was very informative."

True, he'd mentioned the famed missing alchemist, but Russell Tringham's acquiescence had more to do with Roy hinting that he knew the Tringhams had impersonated the Elric brothers on at least two occasions and the general offering the brothers immunity for their crimes if they complied, but Hawkeye didn't need to know that. Though, her sardonic expression told him that she didn't believe it was due to name recognition either.

What was important was that the Red Stones currently being housed in Research and Development were under guard and not being used in experiments. Roy had seen to that, much to the Brass' displeasure. Then again, they couldn't deny him anything he asked for within reason at the moment.

And it was reasonable that counterfeit Philosopher's Stones be sequestered if not completely destroyed, which had been his initial demand. To that end, Corporal Wolfe, who Roy had given a field promotion from Private to Corporal the day he met the sharp young man, was keeping an eye on the Stones for the general. Changing the subject, Roy continued.

"Do you foresee topping more on this stack before my meeting?" he asked as the tower of paperwork swayed slightly with her additions. "It would be nice to get to the bottom of one pile before you bring me more."

"I could always aim my gun if you think it would help your efficiency, sir," she offered innocently.

"No," he replied in a rush. "No, thank you, Captain. That will be all," he concluded with less haste as he took another page from the top of the stack.

"Sir," she said before leaving, hiding the rise at the corner of her mouth.

It was amusing to his staff to note that the Brigadier General sat working without the need for the threat of her gun being pointed at his head. He had a reputation for being lazy and sleeping at his desk, but those who knew him best understood he recognized which regulations to follow to the letter, which could be bent, and which could be ignored completely. The same could be said for his paperwork. Roy knew when he needed to work hard and when he needed to work smart.

His men had followed him from his rise in Central to his time as a Colonel at East City Command. When he transferred back to Central, he had brought them along, too. They were his men even when they weren't.

When he had volunteered to occupy that far north outpost as an enlisted man, giving up his rank after one of his team had disappeared, they had come to keep him updated on the comings and goings of the military. They had also tried to convince him to return, calling him 'General,' always with the hope that he would still be the same man to whom they were fiercely loyal.

Once he had been reinstated last month, they had all requested to transfer back under his command, and the brass could not find a good enough reason to stop them. He smirked as he signed another order and grabbed for the next page. His men. They were the best team he had ever worked with and were again functioning as a single unit. His unit.

He had wasted away in that northern outpost. His alchemy forgotten, his rank gone, and his subordinates dispersed throughout Amestris. Every day he had clung to his routine in his self-imposed exile. Day after day, moving just to stay alive, from looking back, to keep the guilt at bay. He had needed to keep from thinking about those that had been lost, those whom he cared for, those whom had left him behind.

The Ishbalans he had slaughtered under orders in his youth.

The Rockbell doctors he had killed with his own gun, again under orders.

Dr. Tim Marcoh whom Roy had personally handed over, not knowing the then homunculus Führer would kill him.

Little innocent Saliem Bradley who he could not save.

Maes Hughes, his best friend, dying for digging too deeply before Roy could help him uncover the truth.

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, his… his…

Well, there never was a word that seemed to fit. 'Subordinate' wasn't appropriate, particularly since the teen had rarely been submissive or followed orders. 'Peer' didn't match, even though they were both State Alchemists, as Roy had technically been in charge of the young prodigy since he had joined the military at age 12. 'Friend' didn't work either, as they had never really been companionable, instead they had bickering and baited each other most of the time.

No. There was never a word to describe Edward Elric, so Fullmetal would have to do.

Still, Fullmetal had been a pillar in Roy's life, a facet that was a constant. He radiated a strength that astounded everyone he ever met. He was a natural beacon, drawing people and disaster to him. His smart mouth had often gotten him into trouble. Ok, a lot of trouble. Roy had the paperwork to prove that, too. Fullmetal had a knack for finding a tight spot no matter where he was, even bringing it home to Amestris with him from the other side of the gate.

No. That really wasn't fair to say.

Fullmetal had been in the wrong place at the right time. He had come home to fight the invading army, but once he had helped win the day, he had returned to destroy the gate on the other side of the portal. Alphonse Elric had been, just like his older brother, in the thick of the fighting, and had jumped ship mid-air to join Fullmetal as it departed.

Now they were both gone, leaving the cleaning up to Brigadier General Roy Mustang. Again. Just like the old days when Fullmetal had been sent on a mission only to leave a mess of property damage and a pile of paperwork for Roy to take care of. He didn't mind this time, though.

Fullmetal was alive.

Roy smiled as he made notes on the form in his hand and put the paper in a pile to be revised before he would sign it, taking another order from the mound.

For two years in that blasted winter post Roy had held out hope that Fullmetal was alive, but never really knowing for sure. Never able to move forward without that tangible proof that his… well, that Fullmetal was alive.

There had been a time when the teen had been nothing but an amusing tool to help Roy on his assent to Führer. From their very first meeting, Roy had known that Edward was special. Who else at the age of 11 could perform and survive a human transmutation as well as a soul bonding? Who was gutsy enough to give up an arm to attach his brother's soul to a suit of armor? That night had seared itself into Roy's mind.

He had been looking for Hohenheim and had followed Edward's letter back to Resembool to investigate. He had never expected to find a mangled child and a talking suit of armor, but he had seen how important Edward was the moment he had seen the boy. He just hadn't known how important.

Sure it had been impulsive to dangle membership to the military in front of a broken child, but Roy had known even then that the dejected boy had needed a lifeline, something to bring him back to himself. After all, Hughes had been Roy's after Ishbal.

How could Roy have known that the boy would not only grab hold of it, but would exceed all expectations with that look? Glowing golden eyes had held fire that night. It had let Roy know he would be seeing Edward Elric again.

Maybe he hadn't expected it to be a year later, but it had set a precedent. Roy would give the boy a challenge, and Edward would exceed his expectations. Maes had called him about a year after that fateful night to tell him that Edward and Alphonse Elric were on their way to Central Command.

Of course, after meeting the boy, Roy had known he would need to keep an eye on the alchemic prodigy, so he had discretely asked Maes to keep tabs on the kid. Those reports had kept him abreast of the progress the talented young alchemist had been making.

From those accounts, he had known that the boy was pushing himself through three years' worth of automail recovery in record time, even sparred with his brother within a year of Edward's surgery. He had also known that as a Lieutenant Colonel he hadn't had the clout to nominate a child to take the State Alchemist Exam, so he'd had to figure out a way to get a general to do it for him, without said general seeing Roy maneuvering the chess pieces.

It was always an entertaining challenge to get the higher ups to do something he wanted. It was almost a game, but he had to be smart about it. One wrong move would spell trouble for him, but he had needed this kid, this alchemic prodigy, under his command to help him to the top.

It took a bit of luck and a bit of planning to get the Elric brothers on the same train as Major General Hakuro. Maes had been on a mission in the field as an intelligence operative protecting Major General Hakuro from a terrorist threat. Reports had said that the Major General, who had been vacationing with his family, had been targeted for ransom, so a team had been dispatched to escort the Major General, his wife, and two young children back to Central Command.

Planning had been easy enough, routing the recovery team along the same path that the Elrics would be taking. It was inevitable that if the train would be boarded by the terrorist group, it would be between where the brothers would be boarding and Central Command; it was the most advantageous stretch of track for an assault.

As luck would have it, Edward had called before boarding the brothers' connecting train. Initially, Roy had planned to have the Elrics arrive on the same train as Hakuro in order to have their paths cross, but had lost track of them for a day or so. It seemed almost providential that the boy had phoned, and Roy had been able to make sure that the brothers were on the right train.

It had also helped to see how well the kid would be in the field. Being a State Alchemist required dangerous missions, and it was better to kill two birds with one stone, both seeing the operation effectiveness of Edward and getting a general to owe the kid enough to sponsor him for the Exam. If the kid couldn't hack it, best to know as soon as possible.

Anyways, it had all worked out to Roy's plan, more or less. Edward and Alphonse had saved Hakuro from an embarrassing ransom attempt, and the Major General in turn had sponsored Edward for the exam. Roy smirked as he remembered Hakuro's face when he had realized that two young boys had saved his life.

At the sound of Hawkeye entering, Roy broke into the present. Had he missed her knock?

"Sir, your meeting with Major General Hakuro is in 15 minutes," she said as she placed another handful of papers on his ever growing heap.

"Right," he replied, signing the same order he had been holding for the last half hour. He should not let himself get distracted, especially by memories. Straightening his military blues, he inclined his head and made his way towards his superior's office. Roy was simply updating the man on his progress in straightening out the warzone-looking capital. In fact, the whole of Amestris was considered to be in wartime. Fullmetal sure could leave a mess.

In all the years of their association, Fullmetal could leave a swath of destruction like no one else. Of course, the military received the bill, and it had been Roy's responsibility to figure out how to adjust the budget to accommodate such repairs.

However, along with the receipts for the restorations, letters had thanked him for sending Fullmetal to save the day. The people who had sent these messages had decried any punishment for the young alchemist, for it was this young man that had saved them from this or that disaster. They always sang his praises, their 'Alchemist of the People.'

Roy smirked again as he thought of the brash young man. Fullmetal had a way of coming out on top, just like himself, however reckless the teen had been.

Coming up on Hakuro's office, Roy straightened his uniform again and ran a hand through his stylishly messy hair. Entering, he smiled a winning grin at the woman behind the secretarial desk off to the right side of the double doors and Hakuro's personal office beyond them.

"Hello, Gladys," he purred. "My, aren't you are looking well." Being admired by the Major General's personal aide was helpful. She could be counted on for a few tidbits of vital office gossip that helped him keep one step ahead. Best to stay in her good graces.

"B-Brigadier General, how are you?" she blushed. "The Major General is just finishing a phone meeting with Brigadier General Fairchild and should be ready to meet with you in a few minutes," she explained. "Keep the time in mind, sir. The Major General has a meeting with the Führer right after you, so please don't go over."

So Hakuro was getting all his ducks in a row, covering his ass, before meeting with the Führer, was he?

"That's fine, Gladys. I will just wait here with you, that is if you don't mind chatting with a lowly, reinstated rake like me," he winked his one good eye at her.

She blushed again.

"Oh, Brigadier General! Everyone is happy to have you back! I just can't believe it took so long for you to return." She blushed deeper, "I-I mean I'm sure you were busy in the north, but, well, the girls and I, well, we thought you meant to stay away."

So, he was still in with the secretarial pool? Good resource, that group. They always kept their ears to the ground for the next beat of office comings-and-goings. He was glad to have their keen ears.

"Not to worry. I don't plan on going anywhere," he smiled. "I've got a lot of work to do, after all. Plus, I have to help Central get back on her feet. Now if I could only find a place that was still open for dinner," he met her eyes. "That would be great. Know of any good spots?"

"I-I'm sure the little bistro around the corner is still open." She blushed even deeper, turning her head to hide her face in her auburn hair. "I think they've got coffee and sandwiches. There were people outside it yesterday. They're pretty tasty." She blinked, noticing how that sounded. "The sandwiches, not the people!" she corrected with a blush that covered her neck to her hairline.

"How about a coffee tonight, then? We can grab some of those tasty sandwiches," he winked again.

"S-Sure, Brigadier General," she toned, smiling.

This would work out better than expected. He could get the inside track on the outcome of Hakuro's meeting with the Führer. He'd get the information he needed, a meal he wouldn't have to cook, and a night with a beautiful companion. Perfect.

A quiet buzzing sound interrupted them. Gladys leaned back and depressed the intercom button on her desk.

"Yes, Major General?" she inquired.

"Is Mustang here yet? I want to get this over with," came a distinctly peeved voice.

"Er…Yes, sir. He is. Um… Should I send him in?" she asked.

"What?! Why didn't you let me know when he got here?! Send him in!" The hoarse voice shouted not giving her the chance to answer before the line was cut off.

"Um…" Gladys turned to a smiling Mustang. She looked embarrassed and hunched her shoulders. "Go on in Brigadier General."

"I'll pick you up at 7?" Roy nodded to her, non-pulsed.

"Yes, 7 is good," she confirmed nodding.

"Good," he asserted as he gave her a small smile before leaving her desk. She blushed as he walked by. Roy opened the double doors, entered, and closed them behind himself before stepping forward and saluting.

"Sir," he began formally.

"Mustang," Hakuro toned flatly with an undertone of distaste. Roy did not miss the small slight that Hakuro did not address him by either of his titles. "I need an update on the state of Central's repairs."

"Sir," Roy spoke as he stepped up to the front of Hakuro's desk. "The majority of the debris has been removed from all roads, and alchemical repair work is underway; 85% of roads are completely restored and usable. Assessment of the structural integrity of buildings effected is still ongoing.

"Those citizens that have been displaced are being housed in a makeshift tent city along Central's eastern edge. Excavation of those buildings that held survivors is complete. The architects' blueprints for homes or businesses uninhabitable or destroyed have been approved as of today. As soon as buildings are cleared, we can begin having alchemists and construction personnel begin with the rebuilding under the reinstated Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong's direction."

"Good. Now get back to work. I want those people out of those tents and somewhere I don't have to see them every day when I drive in. Makes Central look like a nest for the homeless, rats and thieves," he said with a derisive sneer. "Dismissed."

"Sir." Roy saluted then turned a sharp retreat, wishing that Hakuro could at least try to hide his contempt for those people in the camps. Well, better get to it. The snow was nearly here.

He exited the office and headed to Gladys' desk to get her address, smiled at her, and bid her ado. He'd see her tonight and catch the other updates given to the Führer. He'd need all the advance warning he could get on what the other departments were doing.

It was nonetheless a prickly situation since his reinstatement, still dealing with the backlash from the brass. They might have tried to court martial him two years ago after Führer Bradley went missing, but it was difficult to prove that he had in fact killed the homunculus, as the only body he had left behind was a flaming pool of organic pink liquid.

Evidence that the Führer had been starting wars and conflicts on purpose, unprovoked, as well as the ghastly experiments in Laboratory 5 had made front page news, so maybe not. However, it was still clear that the Flame Alchemist was not as under their control as they would have liked. So who knows?

It was evident now that they could make no public move against him with the whole country supporting him, but that didn't mean he was in the clear. Even after the newly appointed Führer Grumman handed over control of legislative power to the revived Civilian Assembly two years ago, the military still had a lot of power.

The assembly had tried to reduce the amount of authority the military held, passing laws to implement service time limits on the higher ranking brass. However, those limits were still circumscribed by the state of the nation. Peace time restrictions were circumvented since the country was currently in a cold war with The Invaders. The loophole suited top ranking officials just fine.

Roy made his way back to his office mulling it over, surprised to arrive without remembering how he got there.

Mhumph. He had better stop getting so distracted while at work. You can never be too careful, even in a building full of soldiers. No, especially then.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, and he made it through most, if not all the papers on his desk before leaving for the day. He had a date.

It would be his first since returning to his command, so he was feeling… not nervous, but maybe a bit out of practice? He had always done his utmost to ensure that he knew what his enemies were up to, but having lovely dinner partners was never a negative, even if they didn't always end up in his bed.

Sweet talking had been a skill he had learned at his adoptive mother's knee. Sure she was a whore, but that never stopped his father's sister from making sure that he had gone to the best schools, had the supplies he needed, and had whatever else was necessary for him to succeed.

Madame Christmas was a shrewd business woman and ended up owning her own pleasure house. In fact, ever since The Invasion, she said her business was booming. It was the only such establishment to be unscathed by the destruction in Central, and people needed a release now more than ever.

He was glad for her, as well as the men and women she employed; they were alright and safe. Maybe he should go for a visit to check in with them. If business was doing that well, he should reacquaint himself with his 'brothers' and 'sisters,' to glean any new information they could offer on how secure his new position really was.

Once home, he immediately got ready for his date, going through the motions of showering, shaving, and dressing. On his way out the door, he made a quick note of his appearance, and seemed… well… not impressive, no, not with that eye patch over the left half of his face, but at least he looked presentable.

An odd sensation was forming in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't dread or unease, but it definitely was not excitement. He was not expecting the night to be anything special, but he was slightly put off by playing the game again.

He had been away from it all for two years, and could hardly consider dating while in that shack of an outpost. But, it felt strange to try and think about that time in his life. Those years seemed a blur of routine and retrospection.

Of course he had tried not to think about anything, which of course meant he did. He considered the life he had led up until that posting. How he had made the most out of every opportunity to advance towards the Führership, how he had not seen the homunculi's dealings, and how naïve he had been.

Shaking his head to dismiss those thoughts, he straightened his fedora and left. Roy headed to Gracia Hughes' florist shop to get some flowers for his date. It would be nice to see his best friend's widow again. He felt bad that he had not seen or written her since his self-imposed exile, but a quick visit would be the easiest way to begin to re-enter that friendship. That is, if she was open to it.

When he arrived, he noted that while the shop was open, no one, not even the proprietor was there. He strolled around looking at the colorful blooms until he heard a sharp intake of air. He turned towards the noise in time to get a strong hug. Surprised, he stiffened then relaxed into Gracia's arms, hugging her back. They pulled away, and he could see her genuine smile.

"Roy, it has been too long," she grinned gently at him, then turned, stepped away, and called out, "Elicia, come see your Uncle Roy!"

"Unca Roy?" a small voice sounded. As two brown pigtails bounced into view, she shouted, "Unca Roy!" Elicia ran up to him and grabbed a hold of his leg, giggling. "Unca Roy! I misseded you! Where'b you been? You misseded it! I loth a toof, see?" She, too, leaned back to show her new gap filled smile with enthusiasm.

"Yes, you certainly have," he gave a gentle laugh, answering her easiest question. He patted her head and gave her a small smile. "I missed you, too," and turned to Gracia. "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit."

"Roy," she sighed kindly. "I know you've been busy, what with being in the north, the invasion, and the reinstatement. I figured I'd see you when you had the time. Now, let's get you some flowers for your date."

Stunned for a moment, he stood stock still.

"Now I know where Maes got it from," he said as he quickly recovered. It was uncanny how she could look at him and just know what he was up to.

Gracia's eyes softened at the mention of her late husband. Had it really only been three years?

"Hmm," she breathed. "I had to learn in self-defense. He always knew what I didn't say," she smiled with a distant look in her eyes. "Anyways, since you don't have the time right now, you should come over for dinner next week, so we can properly catch up. I won't take no for an answer." She wiggled her finger at him, but her smile belayed any anger in her reprimand.

"Alright," he inclined his head. "Dinner it is. Should I bring anything?" He asked trying to stay polite. He had not expected to have Gracia ask him to their table, but he should have. She was such a caring heart.

"Just a healthy appetite," a small smile played on her lips. "Come on by at 7 PM, and we'll have a nice meal," she decided as she lifted a bunch of Gerbera Daisies then walked to the register.

Roy followed sluggishly with a giggling Elicia attached to his leg. She kept telling her Unca Roy all he had missed: her first day of school, her new friends, and all the other sundry events of a six soon to be seven-year-old. Once they reached the counter, Elicia released him and ran over to her mother, excited that he would be joining them again so soon.

He paid Gracia for the flowers, promising he would see them next Friday evening. Well, that went better than he'd hoped for. Maybe it would be that easy to step back into his life here in Central.

He found Gladys' apartment after driving by it twice; the street numbers weren't all there, but he found it. He parked along the street, pleased it was clear of debris. As he made his way to her door, he eyed a few superficial cracks in the wall and the rubble across the way where a building had stood. Central really did need to get put back together soon.

After knocking, he waited for the excited 'Be right there' on the other side of the door to meet him. She swung the door open with gusto, letting the air pressure of the movement pull on his suit jacket. She glanced over his well-built frame with lust in her eyes. He chuckled and smiled at her. It was nice to know that he still had it, even with one eye. Gladys was wearing a beautiful green dress that accented her hazel eyes and burnished brown hair.

"Hello, Gladys. You look wonderful," he greeted her, handing her the colorful mix of daisies. "Ready to go?"

"T-thank you, Brigadier General," she chimed. Taking the flowers, she smelled them. "You look great," she blushed slightly. "Just a moment." She reached back and placed the flowers right inside the door before locking it. "Ok, now I'm ready to go."

"Call me 'Roy,'" he smiled.

"O-Ok, Roy." She flushed to her hair line.

He led her to his car and opened her door for her. She smiled as she entered. Closing the door, he circled to the driver's side. Once in, they headed to the little café she had mentioned earlier.

"So, how is your building holding up? Any problems?" Roy asked politely.

"Oh, no, everything is fine. A few cracks here and there, but everything seems ok. Now the bake shop" she rushed, "the one across from me? It didn't make it. It was awful," she slowed. "The family that ran it had to close its doors. They had a little girl that… well… she didn't make it, either," she ended with a whisper.

'Great, Roy. That's the way to get back in the saddle. Ask your date about the war torn city she lives in,' he chastised himself. 'Maybe you should ask her about any childhood traumas while you're at it.'

"I am sorry to hear that," he apologized softly into the silence that had fallen. "I know that it is hard to see any beauty with all this destruction around, but your company really makes it easier," he told her, hoping he wasn't laying it on too thick. She was pretty, but he doubted that she would be his 'one and only' the way Maes and Gracia had been.

'Maes,' he prayed silently to his friend, the only person he believed in, 'please help me figure out where to go from here. You always knew which way to turn.'

"Thank you, Brigadier General." Gladys smiled shyly at him with bright pink cheeks.

"Roy," he said again, but she just smiled.

They reached the café and sat in pleasant conversation. They spoke of nothing important, but it was genial. She was easy to read, and he noticed that she blushed quite a lot. It was going well, when she mentioned how she was surprised to be asked to dinner.

"I-I mean, I didn't realize that you would have the time. I know that you are in charge of Central's reconstruction, so I thought you might have been too busy. Major General Hakuro said that moving those poor people out of those tents was the first priority, that and figuring out how they caught us by surprise. I mean, where did an entire army come from? Why didn't we have any warning?"

Well, she was asking all the right questions. If Hakuro wanted the people off the street quickly, he guessed it didn't matter why. Hopefully he'd have time to make their replacement housing livable before the major General got impatient.

"And what were those flying ships anyways?" She continued unaware of his analysis. "I guess that's why he was meeting with Lieutenant General Gardner, huh? So they could figure out what those things were. I mean, how did they stay in the air? They looked heavy, all made of metal as they were. Not to mention those guns! I mean, just look at the city. Those things nearly leveled Central."

Now, that was interesting. Lieutenant General Gardner was heading Research and Development these days. If they were trying to understand the airships, it wouldn't be a stretch to think that the R&D department was going to try to mimic the advanced ships and weaponry. They'd have to start by inspecting the armor, weapons, and ship shrapnel for their metallurgic qualities, function, and origins. He wondered absently if they were made of a metal not found on this side of the gate.

"I can't believe we had no idea that The Invaders were coming until they got here," she continued. "I mean, those ships were huge! How could Brigadier General Fairchild be that surprised? Isn't he supposed to be the head Intelligence? Isn't that his job? To know what's going on? The Major General was not happy with him, let me tell you."

"Oh?" Roy enticed her to continue.

So, Hakuro was looking to replace Fairchild, was he? Brigadier General John Fairchild was a straight-and-narrow kind of man, even though he ran Intelligence. The cloak-and-dagger aspect of the job tended to attract those who thrived in the murky grey areas of life, but Fairchild was a good man. It would be a shame if he was replaced. He reminded Roy of Hughes. Roy would have to see what he could do for the man.

"I mean, if it's your job to know what's going on, in and out of the country, shouldn't you know if an army is on its way to Central? And why were all of their soldiers covered in that glumpy, inky stuff, anyways?"

"Glumpy, inky stuff," he repeated amused by her description.

"Was it some kind of war paint for armor?" she asked, taking another bite of her dinner.

In fact, the bodies of the invading troops had been autopsied. Their skin and internal organs were surrounded by a viscus black tissue that the labs were currently analyzing, but he could not tell Gladys that.

"And then to have that last big ship just disappear? Even the Führer was talking about how to keep them from coming back. But, I suppose it is better that it left without inflicting any more damage. I mean, you were there, right? What happened to that ship? Where did it… wait. Never mind. It's probably top secret, right? You couldn't tell me even if you knew, right?"

"Right," he confirmed.

Could Grumman be intending to keep a strong watch where the portal had appeared below the city? It might be just as dangerous to keep men watching that spot as not. He considered the possibilities. They'd need to know if something else came through, but having men down there meant that more people would know about those ruins.

Roy would suggest to Grumman that a platoon of his men from the day they had secured the location of the breach stand guard. That way, he could control the sphere of disclosure and keep an eye on the doorway. It's a good thing he got that portal closed; otherwise, they would have to seriously consider keeping a full battalion down there.

A state of war had been declared, but there had been no recurrence of invasion or hint that one might come again. On the other hand, the only clues that The Invaders were coming the first time were the earthquakes in Central and Lior. So, they were currently in a state of high alert.

The public story was that a rouge army had attacked unprovoked. The Invaders, as most of the press were calling them, had been wiped out. That is, all but one ship that had fled the Amestrian Army's might, led by a certain Brigadier General, his flame alchemy, and two unidentified alchemists.

There was no word about Fullmetal's sudden appearance and disappearance, nothing on his role in the battle for Central, and no mention of his self-sacrifice to return to the other world to close the gate there. However, there was a black and white photo being circulated in the media, but not confirmed, of Roy and two unknown alchemists running along a forged bridge to the last airship.

It was a shame Fullmetal wouldn't get his due for saving Central, but then the higher-ups would have had to explain the portal between the two worlds. And that was too much information for the public and Amestris' enemies to handle. However, Roy had a feeling that Fullmetal and Alphonse would be back.

"Well that figures. I mean I get to go to dinner with the 'Hero of Central,' and I can't even ask the really interesting questions," she pouted but laughed. Then, thinking about what she just said, she blushed. "N-not that you need to tell me anything."

"I wish I knew all the answers, too," he granted. "Dessert?"

"Yes, I'd like that," she answered coyly.

Ah, here is the game. She will be coy. He will flatter. She will touch his hand, or arm, or leg. He will walk her to her door, and she will ask him in. Then he will leave in the morning before she wakes up. He sighed lightly at the predictability of it all.

He felt tired all of a sudden. This must be why he had been apprehensive before leaving his home; he didn't really want to play this game anymore, but it was what kept you alive on the chess board.

As it turned out, the rest of the evening went according to the script. Although, when she asked him if he wanted to come in, he hesitated.

"I have an early morning meeting tomorrow," he lied, "so I should head home. Perhaps another time."

"Alright," she pouted, disappointed.

"Goodnight, Gladys," he toned as he leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

Predictably, she blushed.

He planted a fake smile on his face as he inwardly shook his head. Playing the game had lost all its appeal. He wondered when he stopped wanting to play as he drove home. It was easily before tonight. Was it before his post to the north? Probably. But when?

A conversation floated through his mind. One he had visited many times while alone in a snowed-in cabin. A conversation between Fullmetal and himself in which they both realized just how naïve they had both been, living for just the completion of their own goals without understanding the bigger picture or thinking it had anything to do with them.

Their personal objectives were nothing in the grander scheme of things. Their selfish aims were only the childish whims that would never happen and would surely cost them their lives. A conversation that held so much, but not enough.

There was much Roy wished he would have said, but in the end, he realized that there was no changing the end result. Fullmetal and he would still have gone their separate ways. Fullmetal would still have fought to bring down the one the homunculi called 'Master.' Fullmetal would still have disappeared for two and a half years.

During that time, Roy had mulled over that conversation. He had thought what he would have said if he could do it again. What he should have said. How he should not have let a child run off to face a greater foe alone while he sought vengeance for Hughes and atonement for being blind for so long to the homunculi's plans.

In the end, when Fullmetal showed up on Invasion Day for a moment only to leave once more, nothing was said, yet again. Pulling up to his empty, dark house, Roy sighed. There would be a chance to say something now that Roy knew Fullmetal was alive.

He just had to decide what that was.

 


	3. Chapter 3

***Good Food and Good Company ***  
Central, Amestris, December 1917  
Munich, Germany, December 1923

“That was delicious, Gracia,” Roy complemented. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a fine meal. And with such good company, too.”

“Thank you, Roy,” she replied as they watched Elicia playing on the floor with the doll he had brought her and some of her blocks.

Clap!

Roy turned towards the infamous noise and the young girl playing on the floor with more rapped attention. It looked like she was creating two towers with a small path between them big enough for the doll.

“What are you doing over there, Elicia?” Roy inquired with true curiosity.

“I’m playing ‘Alchemist,’” she replied. “See? Now all of Dolly’s buildings in Central are all fixeded.”

He sat stunned but smiled at her, then turned to her mother for an explanation.

“All the children play as alchemists, fixing this and that,” Gracia clarified for him. “It has become a craze in Central. We’re all watching the city get put back to rights using alchemy, and the children are mystified. Roads and buildings, earthquake and assault damage fixed in the blinding light of alchemy. In fact, I haven’t seen this much alchemy my whole life. It almost feels like the city is being repaired by magic overnight.”

Roy was glad to hear it. This week he had finally won his struggle to get Alchemic Affairs to give him the alchemists he needed to get the reconstruction done before the snow fell. He was sure if he or the State Department declared a state of emergency he could have requisitioned anything he needed from supplies to labor, but if he did that it could give the wrong idea to the wrong people.

He couldn’t let any of the brass, especially Hakuro, know that that’s all they would need to do to take control of Central or the nation along with any and all alchemists they wanted. Never again would he allow alchemists to become weapons.

Clap!

Elicia threw her hands together then slammed them to the floor giggling. She then proceeded to build more buildings for her city.

Roy sat in stunned silence. He only knew two alchemists who could have performed alchemy like that, without a transmutation circle. One had recently passed away and the other was on the other side of the closed portal.

“Do you want me to help you draw any circles?” Roy asked the smiling girl.

“No. Don’t need ‘em. I do it just like Big Brother Ed.”

Both Gracia and Roy looked at the girl in surprise.

“Just like…,” Roy repeated softly, smirking to himself.

It was a shock to hear Elicia talk about Fullmetal’s alchemy. He was surprised that she remembered it, since her pseudo older brother had gone missing when she was about 4 years old. No one alive today could perform alchemy without a circle like Fullmetal could.

Izumi Curtis, the Elrics’ teacher, had been able to transmute that way, but she had passed away about four months ago. Now only Fullmetal knew the secret.

***

Gracia and her husband’s best friend sat in silence watching her daughter at play, Gracia smiling while Roy wore an affectionate smirk. Both were thinking about Edward.

Gracia remembered when she first met the Elric brothers. Maes had told her about two young boys who had helped him save General Hakuro from a terrorist group. Her husband had heard the boys were in town, preparing for the State Alchemy Exam. She had been so upset that they were unaccompanied, orphaned minors studying for a military exam. Who had been taking care of them?!

Maes had promised her he’d bring the boys home without taking ‘no’ for an answer. Soon it was Edward’s 12th birthday, and she had whipped up a cake just for him to celebrate. Of course Elicia had wanted to meet the boys, too, and had decided she would be born that very night.

Since there had been a snow storm, Maes had left to find the doctor while Edward, Alphonse, and poor Nina Tucker were left to help Gracia prepare for Elicia’s birth. The three children had been running around trying to get her anything she asked for while she lay on the couch. In fact, Edward had performed his first circle-less transmutation that night to everyone’s astonishment. He had boiled water in his haste, not realizing what he was doing until he had already done it.

Gracia smiled as she thought about the boys she thought of as sons. She worried about them, wondering where they were now, where Edward had been these last few years, if Alphonse would regain his lost memories, and if they were ok.

For years, she and her husband had tried to show the boys that they had a home and a family that loved them, but she knew they could never replace what those two had lost nor prevent them from walking their dangerous path to set things right. She only wished she could hold them in her arms and assure herself that they were safe.

“Do you think they’re alright?” she asked her long absent friend. “I know they can take of themselves, but… do you think they’re alright, wherever they are?”

“I do,” Roy confided. “I think Fullmetal and Alphonse will be fine anywhere they are.”

“I just wish they’d come home,” she sniffled through her fond smile. “I miss them.”

“So do I,” Roy said in a low voice reaching for her hand. He squeezed it gently as they met each other’s gaze. “Considering it’s Fullmetal, though, I don’t doubt for a minute that he’ll make his way home again, him and Alphonse both.”

“Do you really think so, Roy?” she hoped, wiping away a stray tear at the corner of her eye at the thought of seeing her sons again.

“I do.”

***

A comfortable silence fell between them, punctuated by Elicia’s play, and Roy considered how much he appreciated Gracia’s undemanding company.

“You know, I heard you got your rank and State Alchemist’s title back after saving Central with a couple of unknown blond Alchemists,” his host continued smiling innocently at him.

Well, his peaceful reprieve lasted longer than he thought it would. Slowly, he slid on his professional mask at her question. Events from that day were classified.

He nodded while meeting her knowing bright green eyes. Did she know it was Fullmetal?

“It seems like his brief return not only saved the city, but brought you out of your shell, too,” she prompted with a perceptive grin. When he opened his mouth to refute that last statement, she continued. “Care to explain your northern sojourn, then?”

He starred at her, but closed his lips into a thin line.

“I came back when I heard about the earthquakes in Central and Loir happening at the same time,” he casually dismissed her comment with his rehearsed line. “And as far as my posting in the north, I was serving my country in my own way,” he said stoically.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” she raised her hands in surrender. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad your back,” she said while meeting his stone face, placing a comforting hand on his arm resting on the table. “We both are.”

Soon after, he thanked her for the meal, kissed the top of Elicia’s head goodbye, and headed home. Their conversation was still nagging at him. Gracia had heavily implied she knew that Fullmetal was responsible for not only his return, but for helping to win Invasion Day.

Roy considered her meaningful smile, but he thought that she was only correct on the latter assumption. He wondered how many others had made the same accurate guess that Fullmetal was one of the other alchemists who had finished off the invading assault. Certainly their close childhood friend, Miss Rockbell, would, but who else?

Fullmetal had destroyed two airships on his own, however sprinkling debris over Central, before taking the last ship to the other side of the gate. He had saved Amestris, and no one was allowed to know. It sat uneasily in his gut, but until Fullmetal returned, Roy could not tell the people who their true ‘Hero of Central’ really was.

Ever since returning to the capital, Roy had wondered what his own role would be now. Two and a half years ago he and Fullmetal had come to an understanding. They had both realized that they couldn’t keep living for their own personal dreams, that the world had nothing to do with them. They knew they had both been selfish.

Now Roy had to consider what his part was in the world. He had his rank and pocket watch back, but what should he do with them? He knew that he had to at least protect the people. He could strive to make their lives better. He could dedicate his life to that mission.

Yes. He would play the game. He would keep moving forward.

 

* * *

 

***Keep Moving Forward***  
Central, Amestris, December 1917  
Munich, Germany, December 1923

Signing yet another form with his cramped hand, his eyes unable to read the font anymore from the shere number of orders he’d read over the past month, Roy heard the familiar bang of his office door colliding violently against the wall. He didn’t raise his head from his wooden desk. He knew who it was.

“Hey, Bastard,” cursed a blond man clad in a button up white shirt under a brown vest and trouser set. He approached through the stark, white room. Roy just signed another illegible form and placed it in the ‘out’ tray.

“Fullmetal, it’s polite to knock,” he admonished the missing little hell raiser as he continued to work.

“Yeah, well, no one’s in the office, so what’s it matter?” the youth replied as he brushed off the comment with a wave of his gloved hand.

“What does it matter,” Roy repeated as stiff as his pressed blue uniform.

“Yeah. It’s not like anyone is going to complain, Bastard. And what’s with you? Are you actually doing your paperwork?” the golden youth gawked teasingly. “You know, I’ve been to two worlds now, and I’ve seen my fair share of impossible things, but now I’ve seen everything. Imagine… you… doing your work without Hawkeye having to threaten you,” Fullmetal chuckled a sad laugh as he plopped down on Roy’s couch falling into the everyday routine of giving an oral report, just like the old days.

“And what are you doing now, Fullmetal, besides putting a hole in my wall?” Roy asked as he laid his pen down and was surprised to meet melancholy golden eyes. The sadness there drew out his breath like a swift punch to his diaphragm.

“Not much, but Al and I got that portal closed two days before Alfons’ funeral.” Fullmetal’s strained response put Roy on alert.

That statement was odd, and Roy was caught by the perplexing sentiment. How could Alphonse help Fullmetal close the portal if the younger Elric was dead and needed to be buried?

***

Staring straight ahead, Ed took in the austere and flat whiteness in front of the leather couch he was seated in. It was a good imitation of the real thing, but Mustang’s office had always felt comfortable, unlike this place that felt familiar yet lacking in coziness. It was far better than his nightmares, so he wasn’t going to complain, even if the damn general was here.

‘Alfons,’ Ed reflected, missing his best friend. The German had sacrificed his life to get Ed home, the second person who had done so that day. His father, whom Ed had just been getting to know, was the other, crushed in Envy’s jaws to open the portal. The last month had dragged on, making it feel more like a year.

How was Ed supposed to pay back such a debt? On top of that, it ultimately felt like a wasted effort; he'd had to return to Germany anyways to destroy the gate on this side, making both their sacrifices moot.

‘So in the end… they gave their lives for nothing,’ Ed alleged painfully to himself.

“It was tough without alchemy, but we got it closed,” Ed continued glancing up, noticing but not caring about Mustang’s confused look. “Oh and by the way, you nearly killed me sending those last few flames through. I almost fell six stories to my death, you bastard, so thanks for that,” he said without any venom. “Guess that means you closed your side up too, so it’s ok.

“Besides that though, not much else to do in a world that doesn’t know who I am or have any alchemy. Not,” he continued in a rush, looking at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck, “that I need them to know, or anything.” He blew out a huff and clasped his hands in front of himself, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s just different than being home. Figures that as soon as I get back, I’d have to leave it again,” he lamented looking down. “Like having a carrot dangled in front of you,” he mimed reaching for the invisible tease, “only to realize that it has been yanked out of reach, never to be caught.”

***

Roy paused behind his well-rehearsed mask, stunned by the unguarded honesty. He was used to a blustering, brash, and often buoyant teen. What could he say to this somber Fullmetal?

“You only need to keep moving forward, Fullmetal. Taking one day at a time, tackling what’s right in front of you. That’s the only thing any of us can do,” The Flame Alchemist told his unconsciousness in the form of the lost golden man. The room became hazy as Roy’s fictional image of Fullmetal looked back at him.

“How am I supposed to move forward? I only get people killed, General! And now I have Al. What if he’s next?!” Fullmetal pleaded, beginning to break down, as the couch he was sitting on began to recede into the mist.

“Just keep moving forward, Fullmetal, one day at a time,” Roy’s voice echoed into the fog filling his office before he awoke.

Yes. All he had to do was to keep moving forward.

***

Ed began to fall backwards, plummeting faster and faster through the white mist. The wind whipped his eyes making them water. He jolted awake with tears cresting his cheeks.

“Keep moving forward?” he repeated to himself, blinking back unshed tears, and took a deep breath before blowing it out. “Yeah,” he told himself, wiping his eyes dry. “I can do that.”

After spending the rest of the day energetically locked in his room after his vivid lucid dream, Ed met Al and Noah at the dinner table in his apartment above Gracia’s shop in the muted pigments of Germany’s world. There, he laid out his plan: find an Amestrian uranium bomb and assimilate into this world. This was where they lived now. This was ‘home’ now, and he had to keep moving forward.


	4. Chapter 4

***Following a Lead***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Munich, Germany, May 1924

“Thanks, Fritz, I’ll let you know if this pans out,” a young man with a golden ponytail dressed in a long brown trench coat spoke as he hung up the hotel receiver. Before rising, Ed scribbled down the pertinent information in his ever present notebook. Once done, he slid the small leather bound reminder of home into his pant pocket.

Thinking over the lead, Ed considered the likelihood that it would be a bust. They had been following every whisper for the past 6 months, so the chances that this was what they were looking for weren’t great. 

‘Well, here’s hoping we catch a break,’ he told himself optimistically as he stood.

He climbed out of the telephone cubical into a bland reception room that was lit with warm yellow light. Navigating past the elevator and night filled lobby windows, he made his way back to his room, rereading the notes he had made during the quick call.

Turns out that his hunch about potential buyers might have paid off. An unusual conglomerate of international big wigs was arriving in droves at a discreet, but posh, hotel in Berlin for an exclusive auction. The only thing was, the item up for bid was not being explicitly advertised. All the hub-bub was definitely worth a look, though.

Almost to his door, Ed dug his right gloved hand into his jacket pocket and heard a muffled clinking noise as he grabbed the metal key. He unlocked the door and entered the room. It was messy and small, but all he and his brother needed were two beds and access to a bathroom. Really he wouldn’t have minded sleeping in the same bed as Al, but people on this side of the gate had some funny ideas about what would and would not be proper for two men sharing a room.

‘Fucking prudes,’ he thought as he sat on the edge of his single bed waiting for his brother to get back. Not that they were doing anything like that, but who cared if two guys wanted to go at it? What did it matter to anyone else? Well, apparently here in Germany, everyone cared, or at least those that did were loud and forceful about it. Stupid idiots.

Anyways, the only thing that Ed really cared about when renting a room was if the restroom was at least on the same floor. It was safer to have it en suite, though; there would be less of an opportunity for someone to notice him.

‘That’s all we’d need,’ Ed thought pessimistically, ‘for someone to notice me.’ To be fair, piss yellow hair and eyes along with tan skin were a strange occurrence in Amestris, too, but his coloring was just the tip of the ‘strangeness’ iceberg. He brushed the offending locks out of his eyes with his right hand as he laid back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t need people to notice his metal right arm and left leg, not to mention figuring out that he and Al were dimension hopping travelers from a world with alchemy. It would be dangerous if a certain remaining Thule Society member, that hot headed jackass Lieutenant Hess, found out the brothers were still in Germany. It would definitely put a damper on doing what they needed to get done. They were on a mission: to find and destroy a bomb that shouldn’t exist.

When that fucking nut job Huskisson had been ranting and raving about his ‘scientific prowess’ back in 1914 (so that made it 1920 here in Germany, right? Fucking time misalignment bullshit...), he had propositioned Ed and Al to bring his Uranium bomb to the State. The brothers had refused the hack outright. Of course, their rejection had prompted the ‘scientist’ to resort to his back-up plan, using human transmutation to turn his dead miners into weapons.

He’d paid the ultimate price in the end, or so the brothers had thought. Turns out that asshole had ended up on this side of the gate and had proceeded to blab his mouth here, too. Damn fool.

Ed agitatedly pulled a rumpled, well-worn train schedule from his left pocket. He held it above his face and began scanning it for the route and times he and his brother would need for their trip.

A sympathetic Thule Society had found Huskisson soon after his arrival. They’d sought to study and use his bomb to promote their own ends. However, recently the group had lost most of its impetus for crossing over to Amestris after their crushing defeat both there and in the streets of Germany.

Ed and Al hoped that, after the brothers had closed that damn gate for good, those crazy bastards wouldn’t try another invasion of Amestris, but you could never be too careful. This was especially true since Ed’s blood had already proven able to open a temporary portal, even though everyone in Thule’s returning advance team who had passed back through had been killed in the initial trip to Amestris.

It was smarter for Ed to fade into the faded tapestry of this muted world while looking to tie up Huskisson’s last loose end connecting the dimensions. They had even left the little place above Gracia’s, trying to erase any trace of themselves. The Elrics had been destroying any references to Amestris, alchemy, or portals in their search for Huskisson's bomb for the past six months.

‘And then what?’ the thought floated across Ed’s mind. He crumpled the train schedule at the thought and stared at the ceiling instead.

‘Well… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ he groused back, slightly concerned that he was arguing with himself. Anyways, once they found the damn bomb, they would still have to figure out how to dismantle and then destroy the thing before they could consider what to do next.

Not to mention, they would have to find all the research notes related to it that might exist and destroy those, too. It might take the rest of his life to find all the pieces anyways, so there was no rush to figure out what to do with himself afterwards.

‘Well, that’s depressing,’ he thought as he sighed deeply. It would be just like their search for the Philosopher’s Stone, Al and him seeking the unattainable. Again.

Ed knew deep down that he was responsible for the Uranium bomb being here in Germany in the first place. He had forced Huskisson’s hand, and now he needed to stop the destruction that the gate had shown him when he first crossed over. Why else had it shown Ed that terror?

After Dante had tried to kill him by pushing his mind and soul through the gate, he had crossed over and arrived in London during an air raid. The gate had shown him the awful destruction left by a mushroom cloud yet to come in this world’s future.

Once Fritz had shown him that propaganda photo of Huskisson holding the uranium bomb, Ed was sure that the bomb would be responsible for this world’s demise. So really, what choice did he have? Ed had to do something to stop it. Alphonse saved him from exploring that thought further, as he returned from the shower down the hallway.

“Hey Al, Fritz might have found us a lead,” he told his brother as he sat up, leaning back on his hands.

“Oh that’s great, Brother,” Al smiled as he began putting his toiletries away. “What did Mr. Lang find?”

“Well, remember that idea we had about seeing if the Thule Society was trying to off-load Huskisson’s bomb to cut their losses and make some quick cash?”

His brother turned and nodded as he sat on his own bed, his attention sharp in olive eyes.

“Well, looks like there is a hush-hush auction in Berlin in four days, but no one seems to know what they’re selling. So, if we leave tomorrow morning, we can catch a train and make it in time to take a few quick peeks at the buyers and whatever’s behind the curtains before the auction.”

His brother took in every detail then smiled.

“Sounds like a good lead, Brother.” Al stood and began to pack, grabbing Ed’s shirt off of the desk chair and began folding it. “I have a good feeling about this one,” he said over his shoulder brimming with assurance.

“That’s what you said about the last one,” Ed half-heartedly complained.

“Well, Noah found that band of Roma when we went west, just outside of Dresden, so at least there’s that.” Al hesitated before continuing, “Do you still think it was ok for her to go off like that? We’d only just met them. Do you think she’ll be alright?”

“Sure she will. They’re her people, and besides, she’s better off with them than the group she was traveling with when I met her. They’d tried to sell her, if you can believe it.” Ed chuckled at the memory of firing a rocket at her pursuers before he and Noah ran off back towards his and Alfons’ place in Munich.

“They tried to what?!” His younger brother nearly shouted as he rounded on Ed. “Don’t you worry that Ro-Noah will be in danger with this new group?” his brother protested.

Al still had a hard time differentiating Rose and Noah in his head. What really mixed him up was when Ed had started to date Noah but had insisted that he and Rose were just friends. How do you keep body doubles straight anyways?

“Naw. I wouldn’t worry about it. Noah said that one of them was a second cousin or something. She should be fine. Plus, I think that her cousin has a secret gift of his own.” Al starred at Ed as his elder brother confided in him. “They’ll keep each other safe.”

By the stunned look on Al’s face, Ed guessed his brother had not picked up on the way that the young man with two-toned brown and auburn hair had gone out of his way not to touch anyone. How had his perceptive younger brother missed that? Al had probably been distracted by the fact that Noah had abruptly decided to leave them. Ed wasn’t going to pretend that it hadn’t been a little awkward after he and Noah broke up. He figured that running into her cousin had given her the excuse she needed to leave him and Al.

It wasn’t like Ed and Noah weren’t attracted to each other. Obviously the loud nights they had shared showed that, but Noah had said Ed was looking for someone else. When he had pressed her, she had said that if he didn’t know who it was, then she wasn’t ‘going to spoil it’ and left it at that.

Whatever that meant.

 

* * *

***What the fuck was that?***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Munich, Germany, May 1924

Ed plopped down on the front edge of the General’s empty desk and picked up a few loose forms from the pile there. He couldn’t read them, of course, this being a dream and all; they were just squiggly lines of ink across the page. The room was unoccupied this time, and it almost made Ed laugh to be waiting for the bastard to show up in his dream.

It was entertaining to Ed to know he was dreaming. These random imaginings were always different than his normal flights of fancy, mainly because they weren’t nightmares, but mostly because he was aware he was dreaming.

They always tended to happen whenever he got the feeling he was making headway in his search for the bomb, ever since that first dream he’d had six months ago.

***

“Find anything interesting, Fullmetal?” Roy asked after being suddenly deposited into his faux office. He laughed to find the youth waiting for him on his desk. Roy noticed the teen startle but not get down from his perch. Instead, the blond crossed his legs to get more comfortable.

“Well, I can’t read these, but I think we found a good lead in the search,” the missing man leaned over to release the pages into Roy’s outstretched hands and accidentally brushed his fingers with the general’s.

The touch sent a shock through Roy’s hand, and he retracted his extended arm at the sensation. He frowned wondering how he could feel something so acutely in a dream.

“Well, that’s good news,” Roy acknowledged as he self-consciously sat down at his desk, straightening the sheaf Fullmetal handed him. “So, you’ll be off again. For how long this time, Fullmetal?” Roy was the blond’s C.O., but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the young alchemist was looking for, not that it mattered.

“It’ll take us about a day to get there and settled, so who knows? If it’s a bust, then it’s only a three- or four-day detour. We’ll be off to some plush hotel to get some information,” Fullmetal discussed conversationally. “Can you believe it might even be up for auction? If it’s there, maybe we can sniff out where the research notes are, too.”

Fullmetal sounded buoyant, so Roy let him talk. It was nice to see the young man excited for a change. Usually these dreams had a subdued tone to them. He always seemed to get them when he was in the middle of trying to piece together what some other general or assembly member was playing at, usually waking up with some insight after bouncing ideas off his subconscious. It was strange that the recent incarnation was the young blond before him.

***

“Anyways, I should get back to Al. Got an early morning train,” Ed said as he jumped down from the desk, noting that it wasn’t as far down as it had once been. He smiled to himself. See, he was still growing; not that he had ever been… short.

“Wait, Fullmetal,” Mustang called awkwardly to him as he was walking towards the mist building in the doorway ready to take him to wakefulness.

“What is it, General?” Ed asked as he turned, still feeling pretty good about this trip and not seeing a reason to add the usual ‘Bastard’ to the address.

“Be safe,” Mustang toned with a hint of concern to his features.

Their eyes met, and it made Ed feel apprehensive. Then he took a really good look at the remembered image of the older man for what seemed like the first time; it was unnerving.

Mustang had always been a good looking man, but Ed was noticing his dark searching eye juxtaposed with the black eye patch that, last Ed saw the general, took up the majority of the left side of his face. His cream colored skin was smooth over broad cheek bones with slender lips. The sleek yet rounded contour of his jaw fed down along the alluring line of his throat, making Ed wonder for the first time what the other strokes of his body looked like beneath the uniform.

Ed stood in awe for a moment as his vision took in the new aspects of his attention. It was like Mustang had morphed from his annoying CO into a strikingly masculine force worthy of another look.

“Uh, sure, General.” Ed turned quickly back towards the misty door as he waved over his shoulder.

Ed woke, blinking his eyes into the bright light of the morning, thinking, ‘What the fuck was that?’


	5. Chapter 5

***The Lay of the Land***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

The next morning, the brothers ran to catch their early train from Munich to Berlin. It took about 6 hours or so to travel there, giving them enough time to speculate about their lead and to read the new books on recent scientific discoveries they had purchased before Ed’s call to Fritz yesterday.

Ed hoped his friend would get out of Germany soon. Fritz was becoming less popular with those in charge, even with his wife’s political leanings. He was an advantageous ally in finding leads for the brothers using his connections through his wife, but Ed worried about his safety.

Ed and Fritz had developed a cordial sort of relationship, and Ed had begun to work odd jobs for the movie director when he wasn’t looking into a lead. These usually included driving the man around or doing research for one of the scripts he was writing with his wife, so Ed didn’t mind.

But Fritz could be demanding. He tended to be tyrannical in his expectations, giving Ed a new appreciation for his dealings with Mustang. Nonetheless, it put food on the table, paid for hotel rooms, and bought train tickets on which to follow leads.

When Ed and Al arrived in Berlin, they immediately found food. Ed enjoyed watching his little brother eat with the satisfaction that Al _could_ eat. All those years in armor hadn’t stopped his appetite, if anything, Al seemed to be eating twice as much as Ed, making up for lost time.

“Brother?” Al asked as they sat down in a small outdoor restaurant. “Do you think we should let Mr. Lang know that we got to Berlin alright?”

“Naw. I told him I’d call if the lead pans out. No need to bother him if we don’t have anything new,” Ed reasoned before he drank his beer.

“Ok. Then let’s find the hotel they’re having the auction at so we can find a room near there. It’ll be too expensive to stay there if all the guests are international politicians,” Al planned as he finished off his second plate of schnitzel and his third large juice.

“Sounds good, Al. Then we can drop off our bags and poke around before the auction,” Ed proposed.

Ed pulled out his pocket notebook. Flipping through it, he found the hotel’s address Fritz had given him the night before. Locating the hotel on a map he bought at the station, he figured out the quickest route there. Ed paid the bill, and they left to make their way across town.

As the brothers followed the map to the luxury hotel, they noticed the city’s night life begin to stir. Women in their finest were walking in their long thin dresses while men laughed on street corners in their dapper suits and fashionable bow ties. It was a good thing that neither Elric brother wore the signature red coat anymore. Even in this flamboyant city, they would have stood out, but it made Ed miss that jacket, nonetheless.

“Is that it, Brother? It’s pretty!” Al gestured to a cream building made of large stones with a light green roof. Its entrance was tented to the curb with a red velvet looking material. It was nested in Pariser Platz Square across from the Brandenburg Gate.

“Looks expensive, alright,” replied Ed in amazement at the amount of money that probably poured into it, even in this economy. “Ok, let’s find a place to sleep tonight, and then we’ll come back later to have a look around. Should be easy to slip in with the night owls around here,” he reasoned as they made their way out of the posh neighborhood to a less extravagant hotel.

They found a place that would suit their needs, and once they had a room, they quickly changed from their travel tired clothes into something a little less rumpled. Ed missed the days he could use alchemy to transmute his clothes clean. It saved a lot of time.

The brothers made their way back to the hotel hosting the auction with plenty of time. The streets were beginning to teeter on the brink of turning into a party, which made walking the boulevard a little precarious.

“Who gets this drunk, this publicly, this early?” Ed complained to Al in an aside as a sable wearing woman with a silver tin in her hand nearly bowled him over as she crossed his path.

Al, ever the gentleman, helped steady her before she kissed him on the cheek and left him stunned to enter the hotel’s bar.

“Well, she was nice, wasn’t she?” Al blushed in an aside to his brother’s amusement.

They followed her into the hotel to inquire after the auction. At once, they both noted the stained glass dome on the ceiling above the cavernous two story entrance. The balconies around the second floor were already litter with those ready to begin a chic night out.

“Wow. This is _really_ nice,” Al said in awe as he spun to take in the whole of the room.

“Al, quit gawking. We need to figure out where the auction is supposed to be,” he chided his younger brother. They weren’t here to look at the fancy architecture. “Come on, looks like the front desk is over there.”

Only one of the night concierges knew about the sale, a man with slicked back brown hair, a black uniform jacket and a red carnation.

“The event will be held in the Grand Ballroom in three days’ time with a viewing the day after tomorrow between 1 PM and 3 PM in the same room. However, as the item is not on display tonight, it might be better for the gentlemen to visit the hotel bar or one of the city’s other amusements. Perhaps a burlesque show in the meantime?” The man pronounced in flawless English.

Ed guessed it was a feature of the gate that allowed both brothers to speak, write, and understand German as well as their native Amestrian. Ed also had this gift with English, having first arrived briefly in this world’s England. The only flaw was their accents; it gave them away as non-natives, which is probably why the concierge spoke to them in English when he was approached in German.

“Figures,” huffed Ed under his breath in German.

“Sir?” The man slipped back into his native tongue, a concerned look on his face, afraid he had offended the travelers who might not speak English.

“Oh, nothing. Thank you, excuse us,” Al covered more politely in German as the man bid them a good evening. Once they were a few steps away from the lobby desk, Al turned to Ed. “What did he say?” Al asked, not understanding English except for the few phrases Ed had been teaching him.

“Three days ‘til the big show and a preview in two,” Ed relayed. With a flick of his head towards the elevators, they moved across the room. “Come on. We still need to check out the layout of the hotel and ballroom before the auction, finding all of the exits, back walkways, etc.” Ed said, waving his wrist to encompass the hotel’s spaces. Taking the lift up to the second floor, the brothers plotted out the route to the designated room for the event. It was a large ornate hall.

“Al, I’m going to make a lap and find all the doors to this floor. Why don’t you look for all the ways in and out of that room and where they lead?”

“Ok, Brother, just keep an eye out for any more drunks,” Al cautioned with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Funny,” Ed scoffed unamused as he turned away. “And no more kissing strangers!”

“She kissed me!” Al rebutted with a blush.

They met up roughly 15 uneventful minutes later. There were only two entrances into the ballroom, one in the back corner, which led to a service passage that fed to the back of the hotel, and the main double doors, leading to the hallway they had taken from the elevator.

If you counted the three air vents, there were three additional access points, but without a ladder, there was no way to reach them, as the room was two stories tall and each grate measured only six by twelve inches. Ed had found that, besides the elevator, there were three staircases, two were service/emergency stairs and one was opulent, leading from the lobby.

“Alright, well, we aren’t likely to find anything else here tonight. Might as well, investigate the traffic coming in and out of this place, and see if we can’t identify some of the buyers,” Ed mused as they headed back to the elevators.

“So back to the lobby bar?” solicited Al.

“Yeah, might as well. If we sat in the lobby, we’d stand out too much. Problem is, we won’t be able to hear each other or the front desk in that ruckus, so stay close, huh?” Ed reasoned.

Al nodded as they reached the elevator landing where a young bald, casually dressed Chinese man wore a yellow jacket with white accents; his two attendants stood behind him, an old man to his left and a young woman to his right both in black.

Ed looked over the goldenrod clad envoy out of the corner of his eye. The man was attractive, all smooth lines and a lean build. He had a strong jaw line, broad cheek bones, and dark eyes. His movements claimed a confident self-reliance. Ed detected that the man was watching him in return, and it gave him a fluttering sensation in his gut. He immediately looked away as the elevator began its decent.

 

* * *

***Someone to Watch***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

The Chinese dignitaries entered the elevator with two young blond men. The Asian man leading the group, especially looked over the striking golden eyed creature. The envoy surveyed the muscular build of the man with interest, remarking that once their eyes met, the elder of the two Caucasians looked away. This peeked his interest, like a cat finding a tasty mouse to play with.

While both young men stood in basic earth toned cotton slacks, button down shirts, and vests, it was clear from their stances that these two were fighters. He wondered if they were here for the auction, too; you never knew who was working for whom, so you could never judge a man by his clothing. He would have to keep his eye out for them over the next couple of days.

Especially, the beautiful amber eyed man. He deserved watching for several reasons.

 

* * *

***Night Surveillance***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Ed and Al made their way to the hotel bar and found seats close enough to the lobby to be able to watch the door without being too obvious about it. Ed ordered a lager for himself and a juice for Alphonse from an attractive, as well as flirtatious, red headed woman.

They may have been in a rip-roaring city, but Al was officially underage. Even if Al remembered all their years together thanks to the gate and was chronologically 18 years old, he still looked only 14 in his returned body. And they still needed to stay as unnoticed as possible.

Throughout the night, the brothers took notes on their cocktail napkins of the patrons of interest. Besides the Chinese delegation from the elevator, they observed a few groups whom looked out of place: a titled couple from England, an American businessman, a Middle Eastern Sultan and his entourage, and a Prince from what looked like Egypt? It was hard to do surveillance when you couldn’t hear anything and had to do your best to read the concierges’ body language when greeting guests.

The brothers left for their hotel around 2 AM, even though the lobby bar seemed to be getting busier. Ed copied down the list of those they had identified thus far for later reference in his notebook. He paid their tab and the red head wrote a quick note on his napkin.

She got off at 4 AM.

‘Well, good for her,’ Ed thought sleepily.

He smiled politely back at her as he helped Al navigate to the door. His brother was not going to let him hear the end of that note if he saw it, and Ed was tired. They were going to have a long day of surveillance tomorrow, and they had taken that long train ride in today.

Sometimes, being around too many people was just too much. Give him a stack of books in a quiet room, and he’d be set for days.

 

* * *

***In Your Corner***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Ed kicked open Mustang’s office door with a satisfying thud. It felt like home, well the closest he had to one. It was the most consistent place in Ed’s life, anyways.

“You know, Fullmetal,” Mustang sighed, “you could knock.” He spoke to the wall of windows he was facing, his posture slumped as if feeling exhaustion after a long day at the office.

“Yeah, I could, but I never have, so why should I start now?” Ed articulated as he entered and flopped down on the worn leather couch.

“How scientific of you, Fullmetal,” Mustang drawled, but kept looking out the window watching the blank nothingness on the other side.

“Yeah, well…” Ed had nothing to say to that, but he couldn’t let that bastard have the last word.

They stayed quiet for a moment, neither filling the silence. Tired of waiting for Mustang to say something, Ed pursed his lips and frowned, leaning back into the couch.

“The auction is in three days, with a viewing day after tomorrow,” he spoke into the void between them to try and get a response from Mustang. When none came, he continued. “Al and I are going to do some surveillance tomorrow to get a feel for who came to bid on something they’ve never seen before. We’ll be able to take a look at it in two days to see if it’s even worth our time,” he said into the quiet.

***

“I see,” replied Roy followed by another long gap in conversation, waiting for this damn dream to be over with. He had better things to do than dream of Fullmetal giving him ambiguous reports.

Fullmetal’s agitation radiated along Roy’s back, and the general was aware that the youth couldn’t take the silence. It agitated the absent Amestrian firecracker. Fullmetal stood up angrily and walked past the desk.

“Hey, Bastard, you just going to stand there? I’m here and you won’t even look at me?!” he demanded of Roy agitatedly.

There was another long pause before Roy responded slowly with the weight of his tiredness.

“Why are you here, Fullmetal? You’re on the other side of the gate, so why are you here?”

Deflated, the blond stood perplexed, losing his anger.

“How the hell should I know? I just show up here sometimes,” he answered Roy as he planted his hand on his forehead, then combed his loose bangs back.

“I see,” Roy bit out, fighting his restrained annoyance.

“You see, huh?” Fullmetal seemed pissed off all over again by Roy’s irritated tone. A long high tail swayed as he stomped close enough to meet Roy’s cold eye in the window’s reflection. “Well, what the hell do you see?”

“I see that you come barging in here to give reports on who knows what while I sit here and wonder what the hell you’re talking about,” Roy berated, turning to face the shorter man. He realized the height difference wasn’t as pronounced, but kept his anger around him as a shield. “I see that you come here more and more, but have less and less to say.” He stepped closer. “I see that you want something from me, but I don’t know what it is.” He took another step forward while the blond backed up a step, giving up ground in his surprise. “What is it that you want from me, Fullmetal?”

The mercurial Lieutenant Colonel took another step backwards, but hit the desk instead of moving towards the door. He was stuck between an intense Roy and Roy’s hard desk, with obviously no idea what to say.

***

How should Ed know why he was here? Did he want something from the general? Is that why Ed dreamed about him?

***

“Well?” Roy demanded.

The younger man just looked at him dumbfounded. This was pointless. If Roy didn’t know why he was dreaming of Fullmetal, he doubted his mental representation of the man would know either. He took a breath and sighed, turning back to face the window.

“I…” Fullmetal began to say into the silence, “I guess, the truth is I don’t why I’m here.” He looked down at the carpet and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess when I'm on the brink of something I come here to let you know that we’re ok, that I’m ok, that there’s a plan. I mean, that’s what I used to do, right?” Topaz eyes looked up. “I’d get a lead on the Philosopher’s Stone and let you know what the plan was, so you’d know what was going on. That way you’d know where I was, so you wouldn’t worry so much.”

‘Is that what this was? I dream about him because I’m worried about him?’ Roy thought to himself.

“Heh,” Fullmetal continued with a smirk. “You used to really lay into me when I’d go off on a mission and not check in. Took me a while to work it out that that’s why you’d get so mad,” the blond looked up as if he remembered it fondly with a small smile on his face. “Actually, I think I figure it out that day by the river outside of Resembool, when you yelled at us for not asking for your help after the Stone was created in Lior.”

Roy considered that. Yes, that day he had tracked down the Elrics outside their hometown. The evil homunculus Bradly had falsely branded them traitors, and Roy had been forced to hunt them. He had realized that he really did care about the two under his protection. Roy had been pissed to find that they had not trusted him enough at the time to ask for help, but his public decryment that the two hadn’t ask him had instantly embarrassed him. It was at that moment he comprehended how much he cared.

“You know, I hated it growing up,” Fullmetal continued unaware of Roy’s musings, “thinking it was a waste of time, but I get it now. You had to have been worried if you didn’t know what was happening. I felt the same way when I didn’t know if Al was ok after I ended up on this side of the gate. I get it, though… you’re a control freak.”

“Well,” Roy chuckled to himself, turning back around, “if I’m a control freak, what does that make you?” He met Fullmetal’s eyes.

“Heh. Probably as big a control freak as you,” the younger alchemist acknowledged self-effacingly, but smiled nonetheless.

***

What the hell was going on here? Ed and General Bastard never talked like this, except for… that one conversation they’d had by the river in Central. Actually, it had been their last conversation before he went off to fight Dante about three years ago.

***

Roy looked at the man in front of him, and really saw him. This wasn’t just a subordinate or a tool. Was Fullmetal his friend? No, that was still too strong a word, but they at least understood each other.

Roy was unwilling to share any more of himself than he already had with Fullmetal. On the day of the kid’s third State Alchemy Reassessment, Roy had shared his dark past in Ishbal. Then that day outside Resembool, he had told Fullmetal about killing the Rockbells and that he had been furious the Elrics hadn’t asked him for help after Lior.

Each of those moments had been candid and unguarded, and Roy had been surprised by how much he had shared. He hadn’t opened up to anyone like that since Maes when he had come home after the war. To be honest, he hadn’t opened up like that since, either. And he wasn’t willing to share anything more now, even if it was just a dream.

“I guess,” Fullmetal said into the quiet room half sitting on the corner of Roy’s desk, “I’m not sure why I come here, but I don’t understand why you’re here to listen. Why would you be here?”

Roy paused, considering. Why did he listen to the kid? Well, looking across at Fullmetal, he wasn’t a kid anymore, not that he had ever really been a child in the first place. They were closer in height now, too, he realized taking in Fullmetal's full height. Roy’s eye met golden ones. Reaching out his hand, he touched Fullmetal’s shoulder, another shock racing up his arm. He pulled it away too quickly, only to have the other alchemist laugh at him.

“What did your hand catch fire, Flame Alchemist?” Fullmetal laughed again. It felt good to hear that laugh.

“No, just remembered how short you were,” Roy smirked.

“I’m not that short anymore, you bastard,” the youth said through gritted teeth and glared at the general.

“I can see that, Fullmetal. Looks like the other side of the gate agrees with you.”

“Not really,” the blond denied, dejectedly looking at the floor again. “I can’t be myself here. I have to hide everything about me, even who I am. It’s not just covering up my automail; I’m used to that. I have to cover up everything that makes me … well me.”

There was a note of sorrow that filled the air. Fullmetal seemed to be more honest than he had meant to be, and it seemed he was beginning to feel the heaviness of it.

“Come on, Fullmetal, it can’t be that bad,” Roy consoled surprised by the turn in conversation. Was Roy hiding parts of himself? Was that what this was supposed to represent?

“You tell me,” Fullmetal challenged. “I have to watch what I say, how I say it, and who I say it to. No one here can know the real me; I have to blend in here, hide in plain sight. Even the people I talk to here… I can’t be honest with them without putting them at risk.”

Roy considered the life he was living in Central. He really wasn’t being his true self, always having to put on a front, always playing the game, always thinking three steps ahead. Even with his men he couldn't be fully unmasked, though he was sure they saw through some of his facade. He had to be Brigadier General Mustang, never Roy. It was tiring.

“Even if the Thule Society is beaten, they aren’t all gone. I can’t trust that they won’t try something else so long as I’m on this side of the gate,” the missing alchemist said.

“You know, people will treat you the way you let them, Fullmetal,” Roy said. And a small part of Roy’s mind thought, ‘Thool Society? What an odd name for me to give The Invaders,’ but it was obvious to Roy that he was worried that they might return. Was Fullmetal safe on that side of the gate?

“Yeah, I know, but here, there aren’t really that many people I can be myself with, people who know all of who I am, people I can trust,” the blond confided. “Maybe that’s why I come here. I know I can trust you, even if it is to be a manipulative bastard,” he smirked. “I know I can still trust you with all of my past and who I am, and not be locked up for being crazy, a deviant, or used to open some portal. I guess, I never really thought about it,” he said as he met Roy’s gaze.

Fullmetal’s honesty shook him. It was strange, but hearing Fullmetal voice this sentiment, Roy realized he really did feel this way about the blond. Sure they'd had their disagreements and had hidden vital information from each other, but they understood one another, better than anyone else in either world.

“It’s nice to know you always have someone in your corner,” Roy toned.

“Yeah,” Fullmetal concurred as he stepped forward off the desk, knocking Roy’s shoulder with the back of his left fist as he made his way back to the door, “it is.”

Roy smirked at the gesture.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Fullmetal said softly as he walked through the thickening white mist.

“Anytime,” Roy imparted, and he meant it as the room faded to a blinding white.

***

Alphonse saw Ed wake with a strange smile playing at his lips.


	6. Chapter 6

***Sparring***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Ed woke up replaying his dream, trying to remember the feelings of comradery. Blinking, he opened his eyes to a bright morning with a small pull of his lips. There were still people in his life that he could trust, even if they weren’t all here.

“Morning Al,” Ed sang out, brimming with vitality.

“Good morning, Brother,” Al chimed in amazed reply. “Did you have a nice dream?” he asked curiously.

Ed supposed it was rare for his brother to see him smiling after waking; usually he jolted awake or cried out in terror from his sleeping rendezvous with old and new nightmares. He could tell that Al was happy to see his unexpected expression this morning.

“You could say that.” Ed wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about his dream right now. In fact, he was certain he didn’t. He shook his head and rose from the tangle of bed covers. He felt driven and full of energy. “I need to spar,” Ed declared.

“Alright, Brother. Just let me get dressed and use the restroom first,” Al countered happily with a smile of his own.

“Sure,” Ed replied as he got dressed himself. “I’ll meet you on the roof in 5.”

“Brother,” Al whined. “Let me get ready without a time limit?”

“Fine, just come meet me when you’re done,” Ed conceded before turning to leave.

“Ok,” Al’s chirp followed him out the door.

Ed found the stairs to the roof and took them two at a time. Dreams like those left him with a lot of left over energy, and he planned to use it constructively.

The roof to the hotel stood five stories above the winding streets below. It was one of the taller buildings in the area, making the hotel hosting the auction easily within view. If the main square wasn’t so wide, he figured he could have leapt rooftops all the way there. Automail was heavy.

He began circling the roof, stretching while waiting for Al to show up. He jumped up on his toes as he moved.

‘Oh the places I’ve seen,’ he thought as he looked out at Berlin’s waking skyline. ‘I wouldn’t even be able to explain some of the things I have seen and done.’

How could he describe the feeling of alchemy coursing through his veins as he clapped his hands to someone who thought that his native science was as real as magic? How could he explain to Mustang the feel of pressure against his whole body as he was propelled in a rocket powered airship through the gate? How could he describe to Al his lucid dreams of Mustang?

He shook his head and bounced again on his toes. No. He couldn’t find the words. That’s why he was up here on the roof, ready to spar with his brother, as soon as Al got his ass up here. Ed threw a few quick punches then a round house kick.

‘Hmm, that’s more like it. Keep moving. Just keep moving forward,’ he hummed to himself, hearing the roof accessed behind him.

“You’re in a good mood this morning, Brother,” Al said as he stepped through the door into the morning air.

“Uh-huh,” Ed smiled honestly. “I feel like I can do anything so long as I have people who believe in me, people I can trust.”

“That must have been some dream,” Al baited his brother as he stretched his right arm across his chest and then his left. Ed could see that Al hoped he would confide in his younger brother about these types of dreams, but they felt private somehow, something just for Ed.

“Yeah. It was just what I needed,” Ed replied watching his brother warm up.

Al, keenly observing his brother, swung his left arm from across his chest to Ed’s head which was blocked with both hands and a squat. Then they were off, throwing blows and quick kicks.

It felt good to let some of that pent up energy out. Ed felt the release with every stretch of his arms and legs, the discharge of the muscle tension, and the expulsion of the grit between his automail plates.

‘This is just what I needed,’ he thought as he threw another swipe at Al.

The brothers didn’t realize, however, that they had attracted some attention when another pair had decided to spar a few buildings away. They watched the brothers’ fight with quiet interest, making sure they were unobserved as they approached.

***

A young Asian man, just out of his teens, followed the fluid lines of the gold and silver hued fighter, both flesh and metal. Ochre hair and eyes danced with his movements. Tan skin flowed over muscles covered in scars while the sun glinted off a silver plated arm and leg.

Who were these sparring men? The night before, he had seen them and knew they were warriors, but he had no idea the smoothness with which the elder of the two would move. He couldn’t stop himself from watching.

“Good morning, mind if I join you?” he called out in his native tongue, testing if these individuals were learned enough to understand him; they obviously had studied enough to be well versed in Eastern martial arts.

Both contenders stopped their dual and turned towards him, taking defensive positions. He heard his guard sigh. She never liked it when he took risks.

“Who are you?” barked the golden man in German, trying to position his body so that less of his metal covered limbs showed.

“My master wishes you a good morning and requests to join your match,” Lan-Fan spoke to the foreigners in German.

“That’s great and all, but who are you?” the gold and silver figure demanded of the interpreter and body guard.

Lan-Fan quickly translated for her master.

“I am called Chiang Kai-shek, but you can address me as Kai. Most Westerners find its pronunciation more manageable,” he smiled brightly in fluent German. He could see amber eyes glide over his yellow tinted skin, bald head, and exotic Chinese apparel appraisingly. His smile intensified. “This is my companion, Lan-Fan. Also,” Kai continued, making eye contact with the two toned man, “it is appropriate to address the person of higher station when making an acquaintance, in this case the one being interpreted.” Kai couldn’t help but smile at the irritation simmering behind golden eyes.

“We saw you last night in the elevator,” stated the younger sparring partner as he stepped in front of the elder trying to block Kai’s view, as if cutting off whatever the elder was about to say.

“You are correct,” Kai replied, noticing that neither of the young men gave a name. Obviously, they were very guarded.

“My companion and I noticed your match when we, too, ventured onto the roof of our hotel to practice our arts, and thought we should say ‘hello,’” he said hopefully.

“Hello,” nodded the golden man. The sparring pair circled the roof towards the open door that led into the building.

“May I ask your names?” Kai inquired.

“You can ask,” replied the defiant man wearing his long tresses in a high ponytail, stepping closer to the door.

“Brother,” the younger man looked at the other over his shoulder then turned to Kai. “My name is Alphonse, and this is my brother Edward. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Al!” Edward cursed his brother’s nickname. It was as if they were meant to keep a low profile while assessing the auction and its patrons. Kai doubted giving their names was part of their plan.

“There is no need to feel threatened. We mean you no harm, I merely wished to spar such an accomplished fighter,” Kai said nodding to indicate Edward.

“Oh yeah?” Edward questioned. He seemed to consider the challenge for a moment longer before giving his reply. “Sure. Let’s see what you got.”

Kai smiled as they began to circle each other while Lan Fan and Alphonse walked to the edge of the building. The two in the roof’s center took their time, fainting towards one another to see the other’s reaction. They found their stances, Edward calmly sweeping his arm in front of himself, while Kai sank to a deep lunge.

“Are you here for the auction? There seems to be no other reason for either of you to be scouting the display room otherwise,” Kai said conversationally before leaping forward in a quick movement, stretching out his fist.

Edward raised his left arm, blocking, and using the momentum, threw a right punch connecting with Kai’s chest. Surprised at the hit, Kai fell back into a crouch while Edward spun, landing into a lunge. In sync, they straightened and faced each other again.

“What were you doing there?” asked Edward keeping his defensive stance, but watching Kai’s fluid motion as he reset his position.

Silver and gold glinted in a right, left, right combination. Kai blocked each with effort. Edward swung again. This time Kai pushed Edward’s hand above his bald Chinese head. Edward twirled his own arm around, catching Kai’s forearm, and threw it back. Falling off balance, Kai stepped back. Edward smiled as they each centered themselves again.

“Checking out the competition,” Kai huffed out, but smiled genuinely. “I thought that was rather obvious.” Kai winked suggestively.

“Hah!” Edward advanced, throwing another strike, and Kai blocked, stepping back again. Edward moved forward, and Kai defended. Taking two quick steps forward, Edward leapt into the sky, twisting in the air before kicking out. Kai bent forward below the oncoming leg. As Edward landed with his back facing Kai, he hurled his right leg up and across, twirling around, forcing Kai down into a crouch.

“Who are you working for?” Kai said breathily, becoming more serious. That was a close one.

Edward struck with his right hand, missing Kai. The shaved headed man stepped back as they both lobbed punches and blocked the other simultaneously. His opponent used his momentum to spin fully around, ready to use the back of his fist to hit Kai, but Kai sank to the roof on his back, bending his knees and allowing his hips to fall between his wide set feet. Once the steel armored arm passed over Kai, they both entered into crouches, Edward dropping down and Kai rising up. They measured each other for another beat.

“No one,” Edward responded panting. “What about you? Anyone above you?”

“Just you,” Kai flirted breathlessly. “I am here for myself, of course.”

Again, as if synchronizing, they stood. Edward stared at him stunned, and Kai smirked at catching him off guard. In all the time Kai had been in Germany, he had never heard men flirt with another in public, but it was entertaining to see the attractive man before him take a moment in his embarrassment. Interesting.

Hoping to capitalize on Edward’s surprise at his innuendo, Kai threw his right fist across his chest, and Edward blocked to the left. Kai hit with his left; Edward checked to the right. Kai punched right, and Edward rolled wide, turning. They danced around each other, back to back, then turned to face one another again.

Simply elegant was the only way Kai could think to describe Edward’s smooth movements.

“Know what’s for sale?” Edward asked shaking himself back into focus.

Edward cut right, and Kai swung his bent torso to Edward’s open side. Turning, Kai swept his leg for mismatched ankles, and Edward jumped over Kai’s extension, twirling midair. They faced each other again.

“Not the slightest idea,” Kai recovered breathily.

Thump, block, faint. Kai planted his right foot and leapt into the air, spiraling to gain momentum to complete his kick, but Edward caught him with a kick midair across his ribs, sending Kai to the roof’s floor. As Kai landed on his chest, Edward brought a golden hued leg up to a gilded perspiring face. It fell lighter than anticipated on Kai’s back before he could fully rise and recover.

Edward stepped back and Kai rose without using his hands. They stood and bowed to each other.

“Very entertaining, Edward,” Kai wheezed.

“Yeah” Edward breathed heavily but satisfied with the win.

“Well, now that we’ve met, we’ve got to go,” Ed pronounced, moving towards his brother and the open door to the building beyond.

“I understand,” Kai said disappointedly. “Hopefully we will be seeing much more of you over the next few days.”

“Sure,” Ed stated flatly, still cautious.

“It was nice meeting you,” Alphonse articulated before bending slightly at the waist to Kai and then his companion. At that point, the brothers disappeared into the doorway proceeding off the roof.

“Highness, should you have given them your name?” asked his protective agent Lan-Fan in their indigenous tongue. He grandfather stepping out of the shadows to incline his head in agreement.

“Yes, I needed to know if they knew who I was,” he replied to them in Chinese, accepting the precaution. “If they did, it would have proven bothersome later. However, seeing as neither reacted to my name and the fact that they are staying in this run-down hotel means they are no more than muscle for someone else,” he paused to consider the brothers. “That or they are ingenious spies. Did you see how the younger bowed in our custom? In any case, we will need to discover why they are here before the auction begins.”

“Yes, sire,” Lan-Fan and Fu acknowledged together with a bow.

Crossing the city once more to their hotel, jumping roof to roof, Kai wondered about the golden man, Edward. Where had he gotten such armor, and where had he learned such proficiency in a style of martial arts that Kai did not recognize?

Even the man’s amber eyes stood out to Kai. Edward was well built, but the smooth motions of his silver limbs belied their falseness. Sweat had been glistening It was obvious that the man had seen his share of trouble, but had come out of it stronger.

If only the brothers were not a rival buyer’s muscle or spies… Kai would have been interested in trying his luck in taking Edward into his bed. If Kai could get that man to sleep with him, he would see firsthand if this unique man’s obvious internal strength could conquer his own. Since Kai believed that every strong man craved to let go, it was only a question as to who would be conquered if they shared a night together.

 

* * *

***Day Surveillance, AKA People Watching, is Boring as Shit***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Surveillance was boring as shit. Ed hated it. He knew that people watching was interesting to some, but he found it was mind-numbing. It was uninteresting; watching strangers do ordinary things was just plain tiresome.

Beyond those they had noted the night before, only one additional group, a broad shouldered Russian man and his three flunkies, seemed to catch their attention in the five hours they were camped out at the restaurant across the street from the event’s hotel. Ed added them to the encoded list he carried.

“Hello, Edward,” said a velvet voice behind him that made the hair on Ed’s arm rise.

“Hello, Kai,” Ed replied from his seat, trying not to give away that the handsome Chinese envoy had caught him by surprise.

Kai unnerved Ed with the way the young bald man watched him. His presence was also electrifying and imposing. Why would a guy obviously in his late teens/early twenties shave his head? What was it about this guy that made Ed take another look? His cheerful expressions and subtle strength rang warnings in Ed’s head. He’d have to be careful.

“It’s nice to see you again, Kai,” Al toned politely, turning to meet the Chinese dignitary with a welcoming smile.

“And you, Alphonse. May I join you for a late lunch?” Kai inquired optimistically, indicating one of the two open chairs at their table with an open hand, the other still behind his back.

“Sorry, Kai. Al and I are having a private meal. Maybe we’ll see you later,” Ed responded in a clipped tone with a forced smile.

“That is unfortunate. Perhaps another time,” Kai bowed, leaving the brothers with a grin. His eyes lingering on Ed. That prolonged look made Ed restless.

“Brother, you could be nicer to him. He’s been nothing but polite,” Al mildly chided as he swiveled in his seat to face the hotel through the window again.

“Nah. Check out the way he watches me… I mean us. He’s trying to get something out of us, and we can’t let him. Bad enough you told him our names, but don’t get sucked in just because he sounds nice,” Ed warned.

“But, Brother, he didn’t even comment on your automail this morning. I think you’re being too harsh,” Al rebutted.

“Look Al, he gives me a weird feeling. Just keep him at a distance, ok? He seems nice, but I’m sure the bidders aren’t here to buy flowers for their mothers. I was careless this morning, not covering my automail. I get the feeling that if Kai wants a weapon, he might be interested in my limbs for reasons other than their novelty. We need to know if he’ll be a threat to us. Be careful, ok?” Ed pleaded.

“Alright, Brother,” Al relented, but Ed knew Al saw right through him… that Ed was keeping his distance from Kai for another reason.

They sat watching the grand hotel for another three hours in silence. If the bomb was here and bought by one of these characters, chances were that Ed and Al would be doing a little more world traveling. Hopefully, they could get to the bomb before it left Germany, if it was here at all. Well, whatever. They’d find out tomorrow one way or another. Ed stood needing a break from sitting still for eight hours.

“Brother, do you think we will find anything else tonight?” Al asked. “I’d like to stop at that book shop we passed on our way here.”

“Probably not. I think we’ve found all the buyers, and we won’t know what they’re selling until tomorrow,” Ed replied. “Go on and check out to the book store, and I’ll meet you back at the room. I want to walk around town for a while. Just be careful.”

“Alright, Brother. Be safe, and if I see that book you were looking for, I’ll pick it up for you,” the younger Elric sung happily as he left the cafe.

“Hey, thanks,” Ed called, smiling at Al’s exuberance.

Ed paid their bill before he left as well. He watched Al walk around the corner as he went the opposite direction. There was still a lot to see in a city like this, but Ed was still agitated from his dream and the two visits from Kai. Sparring had really helped center him, but the effect had been ruined by the confusing feelings he got from the strange envoy.

Besides his passive aggressive conversations with Kai, last night’s dream still left him fidgety. It made him miss home when he had those dreams, and Ed knew he couldn’t go back which only made it worse. Anyways, he had to concentrate on the here and now.

He couldn’t spend his time thinking about flights of fancy, having lucid dreams, when he and Al were in possible danger from known enemies, like Hess, and unknown enemies, like the other buyers and their goons. So tonight he needed to be especially tired. That way he wouldn’t have the energy to let his mind wander. This strategy didn’t always work, but it had a 72% success rate.


	7. Chapter 7

***Agendas***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Ed began to walk the city, taking in less of the sites but seeing some of the beauty of the city’s streets. By the time he had circled around to the Brandenburg Gate by the hotel’s entrance again, it was past dusk. He noticed that a shadow was following him around that time, too. Deciding to get whoever it was face-to-face, he took the next ally way. Ed could handle himself in a fight, even without his alchemy; he’d proved that as recently as this morning.

He waited in the darkened passageway, his body getting ready for an attack. A singular shadow approached him inch by inch. It blocked the street and was surrounded by light, yet the face was hidden in darkness. The chill in the air did nothing except amplify the sound of steady steps originating at the ally’s mouth.

Adrenalin began to pump through Ed’s system. His fighting instinct was taking over. His senses heightening, and he heard a formal voice call out to him.

“Hello, Edward,” cooed the shadow.

Getting ready, Ed sank into his stance before recognition hit his addled brain.

“Would you like to talk out here in the light?” asked a man Ed could now identify.

“Sure, Kai,” replied Ed rising out of his fighting stance, but no less alert. His voice dripped distrust as he walked out of the narrow corridor, keeping a defensive position.

“Care to eat dinner with me? There was a nice place around the corner back there,” Kai asked with a warm smile.

Ed’s stomach answered for him. Damn gut. How late had it gotten, anyway?

“I guess I could eat,” Ed said, not really feeling like he had an option thanks to that grumble.

Kai led the way, showing Ed his unprotected back. If Kai was going to attack, he’d have to use his aides to do it, so Ed kept an eye out for them. One was hovering above them while the other was somewhere to the left but he hadn’t yet found the exact location by the time they reached the restaurant.

“So, why were you following me?” Ed asked as they were seated, taking the proffered menu from their beautiful female host. Ed pretended to pursue it in order to avoid her interest in him.

“Ever since last night, I have been unsuccessful in getting you out of my mind,” Kai said with a low rumble as the disappointed host walked away. “After sparring with you this morning and seeing you this afternoon at the restaurant, I felt I had to take this opportunity to dine with you when I saw you walking alone this evening. I thought we could have a pleasant night together.”

Ed wasn’t sure, but that sounded like Kai wanted to do more than just have dinner together.

A petite brunet man came to take their food and drink order and brought them water glasses. Ed asked for some chicken and a single whiskey to calm his nerves while Kai requested something fancy with some French wine.

“Why’s that? Why me?” Ed asked apprehensively once the waiter left.

“I am intrigued by you. I noticed your stance in the elevator and knew you were a fighter, but when I saw you sparing I was fascinated. Where did you learn to fight like that?” Kai probed.

“From my teacher, but she died almost a year ago,” Ed answered ambiguously.

“And may I ask how you acquired such armor?” Kai requested as he reached across, tracing his finger over Ed’s sleeve and gloved hand sending a tingle up the automail.

Flustered, Ed pulled back instantly.

“I don’t think you should be doing that in public. This country doesn’t look too kindly on that sort of thing,” Ed said nervously glancing around to assure himself that no one had seen the intimate touch.

“I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable, Edward,” Kai apologized, removing his hand. After a pause, he tilted his head and remarked, “I noticed, however, that you did not object for personal reasons. Would you like me to do it in private?” He asked for clarification with insinuation, but no leer.

“I, uh, don’t know you that well. How about just dinner,” Ed hedged somewhat bewildered. Though, he was glad that Kai thought his prosthetics were just wearable armor instead of something more permanent, he still felt unsteady. Did Ed want Kai to touch him in private? The fluttering in Ed’s stomach and the nervousness in his chest let him know the answer.

Why was Ed here? Stupid traitorous stomach. Hadn’t he warned Al to stay away from Kai, and here he was having dinner with that possible threat. The Chinese youth could be flirting with him to get Ed to give something away or perhaps the shaved headed man really didn’t feel restricted by the society they were in. Maybe instead of letting himself get worked up, he should try and figure out what Kai knew about the auction.

“What about why you’re here? What do you know about the auction? You really have no idea what’s for sale?”

“Not in the slightest. It should be beneficial though to see what the Thule Society is disposing of,” Kai said with a smile. He absently moved his finger around the rim of his water glass as they considered each other while their food and drinks arrived. “And the armor?” Kai inquired after their waiter left discreetly.

“That’s a long story, and I’m sorry to say that they can’t be made here,” Ed lamented honestly.

“That is indeed unfortunate,” Kai whispered as he leaned forward eyeing Ed’s arm. “They seem to move effortlessly. A master craftsman must have created them.”

“Yeah, she is quite the mechanic,” Ed smiled affectionately at his prosthetic. His childhood friend, Winry, was more like a sister to him, and he missed her. Although, he didn’t grieve for the way she swung her wrench at his head whenever he busted his automail. That he could live without.

“Ah, so she is your lover,” Kai concluded, leaning back, obviously determining that this was why Ed had turned down his earlier advances.

“No!” Ed coughed, nearly spitting out his drink before he was able to calm down his agitation. Why did people always fucking think that?! “No. She’s not. She’s like my sister.”

“My mistake,” Kai gladly apologized. “You had a fondness for her painted on your face,” Kai explained then grinned. “Do you have a lover then?”

Ed’s gut fluttered again. This guy was trying to break Ed’s calm.

“No, I don’t,” Ed replied as evenly as he could, trying to channel a smoothness he didn’t feel. “My last girlfriend and I recently broke up, actually. Why? Do you have one?”

“Oh, I have several,” Kai laughed, “but I have not had a male lover in some time. Interested?”

A slow flame lit Ed’s face. No one had ever been so forward with him, and it made him nervous and unable to speak or think coherently.

“I… I’ve never…” he stuttered trying to control his face and voice while his head felt chaotic.

“Do not be ashamed that you have yet to be with a man. I realize this country is strict about such relationships, but being with another man can be rather freeing. In fact, the stronger the man, the more liberating it can be,” Kai said leaning forward over the table conspiratorially and Ed swallowed hard. “There is a release to be found in the arms of a man who can protect you, fill you, and take you. It is quite the experience,” he promised as he leaned back and picked up his wine glass, taking a sip. “Although,” he considered his drink for a moment before meeting Ed’s eyes over the brim, “doing the taking is quite satisfying, too,” Kai cautiously purred.

Ed blushed deeper as he avoided Kai’s eyes as his stomach twisted in weird ways. Kai pushed his advantage and inclined into Ed’s space once more. Ed just had to keep his mouth shut… that’s all he could do to not give anything else away.

“Can you imagine it?” Kai’s gentle finger tips rested on Ed’s right knee under the linen table cloth. “Letting yourself go to that degree? To allow yourself to fully lose control, knowing that you will be taken care of? It is the most freeing feeling. No longer having to be strong, just allowing yourself to be unleashed,” Kai leaned further forward and brushed his hand right above Ed’s knee, trying to coax the answer he wanted out of the honey toned man sitting across from him. It sent a thrumming through Ed that went straight to his crotch.

If he let himself think about it, Ed could see the appeal. He just didn’t see it with the stranger in front of him. He did want to be uninhibited, especially since being in Germany meant he was basically in hiding for the rest of his life. He wanted to be free to be himself, but he couldn’t envision finding the type of release Kai was talking about with someone he didn’t trust. And he didn’t trust Kai, even if Ed’s body was responding to this man’s soft touches and hushed words.

Ed reached for his whiskey without a word. He finished it in one gulp. As Kai began to move his fingernail up along the outside seam of Ed’s pant leg, Ed jolted to a standing position. Surprised, Kai looked up at the sudden movement.

“I can see why someone would want that,” Ed said stepping back to give himself space, grabbing his coat as an excuse. “Thank you for the meal,” he said and put down what he hoped was enough to pay for the bill.

“Don’t you want to come back to my hotel room and see for yourself?” Kai smiled persuasively at him.

“Actually, I need to get back to my brother,” Ed replied, steadying his voice as he tried to corral the fluttering in his gut and pulsing between his thighs.

“Perhaps next time then,” Kai murmured through soured goodwill. He could see he was losing this advantage.

“Nah. Thing is, Kai, I don’t trust you, and I don’t think you trust me either. I think you wanted to play some elaborate game to figure out who we are. Seduction is an easy tool to wield. I’ve seen it before.” Thanks to years of watching Mustang and more recently his father, Ed knew the game enough to know he didn’t want to play it. “You’re better off not knowing me or Al, so let me save us both some time and effort. My brother and I are nobodies here, so let’s go our separate ways and forget we ever met,” Ed said as he put on his coat. “Goodbye, Kai.”

“Goodbye, Edward. It was a pleasure to meet you and your brother. If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Kai relented magnanimously, acknowledging defeat.

With that, Ed bowed and left the bald Asian youth, returning to the hotel he was sharing with his brother.

***

Kai smiled, amused as the golden man had left him in the restaurant. Lan-Fan stepped out of the shadows to within a foot of her master.

“He thinks he is a ‘nobody here’ does he?” Kai laughed. “Well, if that is true, then he is not a buyer, but I do not think he is a spy either. Whatever he is doing here, he won’t go unnoticed for long. He’s a ‘somebody’ somewhere.”

Kai thought about Lieutenant Hess finding Edward before the auction, and it did not sit well with him. But this was Germany, and Kai had his own politics to worry about. He did not need to stick his nose into another country’s problems.

Oh, well. He would take Lan-Fan to bed tonight. She was always a willing participant in a night of pleasure. He would just have to forget about the silver and gold man. For now.

 

* * *

 

***We Live Here Now***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

Ed quietly turned the key in the door, but that did little good considering the door creaked loudly as he opened it.

“Brother?” Alphonse looked up from his book lit from the bedside lamp.

“Yeah, it’s me,” replied Ed disappointedly as he entered their room. He had hoped Al would be asleep by now.

“Where were you? I was beginning to worry,” Al demanded as he got up to check Ed over, even though he was relieved.

“I went for a walk before Kai cornered me. We had dinner…” Ed began, but was cut off.

“You smell like alcohol,” Al accused with a look of disappointment.

“Only a single of whiskey,” Ed confessed defensively before walking towards the aisle between their beds.

“Brother, but you said…” Al sounded confused while walking along the outside of his bed, parallel to Ed, as they reached their cushioned pallets.

“Yeah, I know what I said, Al. And it still stands. That guy’s trouble,” Ed replied, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.

There was a moment of silence as Ed got ready for bed while Al pursed his lips, sliding into his bedsheets and watching his elder brother’s back with concern.

“Brother,” Al began nervously, but determinedly, “if you’re going to sleep with men on this side of the gate, you should be more careful about it.”

Ed’s ears turned red and turned towards Al, stunned, his mouth open, unable to speak.

“I’ve noticed they really frown on that here. You’ll need to be more discrete. I don’t want anything to happen to you. This isn’t Amestris,” Al warned, but didn’t look his older brother in the eye. Instead, he looked at the floor, as if by not meeting Ed’s stare they could avoid the awkward discussion completely.

“I… I know that!” Ed stuttered. “Fuck, Al, where the hell did that come from?!”

“Well, didn’t you sleep with Kai?” Al asked imitating nonchalance, rolling his shoulder as he looked out the window. Even Ed could tell he was trying to keep this conversation from getting more uncomfortable.

“NO!” Ed exclaimed, embarrassed. The blush cresting his cheeks grew darker.

“Good,” Al breathed a relieved sigh and chanced a glance at Ed, reassured of the honest discomfiture there.

“What the hell, Al? Where did you get the idea that I slept with him,” Ed asked, “or even that I would?”

“Well…” Al stalled as he looked at the floor again before mumbling, “You weren’t really hiding the fact that you’re attracted to him, Brother.”

His older brother just sputtered; his jaw opened and closed with only nonsensical noises coming out.

“Plus, did you really think I didn’t notice the way you look at other men and the fact that you never talk about girls or go on dates, even back home?” Al asked, now trying to meet Ed’s eye line. The allegation hung static in the air for a moment.

“Come on, Al, we were searching for the stone and now the bomb...” Ed answered too quickly. “There was never any time for that,” he added defensively. “And, what do you mean I don’t date girls? I went out with Noah didn’t I?” Ed hedged. “And last I checked, she’s a girl.”

“Yeah, you slept with the only girl to ever travel with us. Brother, that’s not exactly a huge dating history,” Al said not believing his brother for a minute. “And back home you and Winry never got the chance to…”

“Winry? Geeze, Al. Not you, too?! I didn’t _want_ to do anything with Winry. She’s basically my sister!” Ed yelled, making a grimace thinking about the implication of Al’s musings while trying to avoid the rest of his brother’s argument.

“Ok, but you were famous, Brother. You could have at least dated _someone_ ,” Al challenged, not letting go of this bone.

“Well, how could I if you were stuck in that armor?” Ed grimaced. He had never asked to be famous, and it had come at a higher cost on more discrete missions, even if it did come in handy every once in a while. Although his notoriety had sparked fabricated rumors of inappropriate sexual behavior surrounding his ‘long leash even for a military dog’ while he searched for the Stone, dating had never really been on his radar.

“Wow. So it’s my fault, Ed? Really?” Al demanded, infuriated that it sounded like his brother was throwing it in his face. Ed knew Al was crossing his usually high tolerance line for patience when he used Ed’s first name.

“That’s not what I meant!” Waving Al off, Ed slowed down. He sat on the edge of his bed facing Al, and tried to explain it better. “It didn’t seem fair. If you couldn’t do it, then why should I have been allowed?” Ed reasoned miserably. He had denied himself many things using that logic; if Al couldn’t do it, then he shouldn’t either. The only exceptions had been joining the military, eating, and sleeping.

“Oh, I see, Brother, so that’s your excuse?” Al toned annoyed yet no longer angry. He didn’t believe his brother but he wasn’t offended either.

“Excuse?! Fuck! If you couldn’t do it, I didn’t _want_ to do it. It felt like I was rubbing it in your face that you were in armor… armor I put you in,” Ed expounded, perturbed now, rising from the bed to pace the space between their beds.

“To save my life, Ed!” Al was getting mad again, but Ed couldn’t help it if his reason was true. “Don’t be ridiculous! You spent all those years trying to get my body back, and you did it! You have the right to live your own life.”

“I know that, Al,” Ed ground out through gritted teeth.

“So you can date, ok? I’ve got my body back. You don’t have to refuse yourself the things you want anymore,” Al said pleadingly.

“Thanks for your permission, Al,” Ed’s answering sarcasm stalled his patrol, and he couldn’t help but look into olive ringed pupils. “Come on, do you really think I can be with whoever I want here?” Ed blushed and waited in silence, anchoring his gaze to the ground. “I can’t live openly. No matter who I want to be with; guy or girl, it doesn’t matter. I stand out too much,” Ed said sorrowfully, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn’t meant to tell Al this much, but it was too late to take it back.

“Brother…” Al’s pained sound held the lament of regret but no real promise or comforting argument.

“No, it’s fine, Al. We live here now. We need to find the bomb and destroy it. That’s the priority.” Ed straightened out their mission, hoping Al would drop it already.

“But, what about you?” The tearful question filled Ed’s chest, making his throat tighten and tears prick his eyes before he blinked the sensation away.

“Just leave it, Al!” Ed spit harshly, trying to cover his hurt. “Just…” he breathed out heavily. “Just forget it, Al. It’s fine,” he assured in a good attempt at his normal voice as he got into bed facing the blank wall, wishing he hadn’t snapped at his brother.

The room fell into silence once more.

“Night, Al.”

“Good night, Brother.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading so far! This is my first fan fic, and I am obviously bad at leaving author's notes. However, I love getting constructive feedback, and I usually try to post a chapter a week. Although, before I did that this time, I thought I should post an author note, since...
> 
> WARNING: Smut... smut, smut smut =) enjoy or skip (if you don't like BL/Yaoi/Boy X Boy) at your discretion =)

***A Curious Thought***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

In the dark room, listening to his brother’s light snore, Ed turned over in his bed yet again. He couldn’t sleep, not with everything Kai and Al had said to him. Truth was, Ed was more frustrated with his situation than he was willing to admit.

During dinner, Kai had said all that stuff to him about release, and he had gotten turned on by it. He could imagine every scenario the alluringly exotic man had proposed. Ed could feel the urge to let down his defenses and lose control. He craved it; the thought clawed at him, pulsing below his skin.

Ed wanted to let himself go. He was just too much of a coward to do it. Well, that, and he didn’t trust Kai not to slit his throat in his sleep, otherwise he might have taken him up on his offer.

Shaking his head, Ed knew that wasn’t true. He wouldn’t risk exposing his brother and himself in this dangerous atmosphere for a night of adventurous sex. Not even now that Al openly supported Ed’s sexuality.

Actually, getting ‘the talk’ from his little brother was ridiculous. Ed was the elder brother. He should have been the one giving Al the awkward sex talk, not the other way around. And why did Al have to say all that stuff anyways? It wasn’t as if Ed was a virgin or anything. This whole thing was just asinine.

He huffed out a deep breath. Not for the first time, Ed wished he could talk to someone about this sort of thing. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, turning over onto his stomach. After a few minutes, he rolled onto his left side, then his right. Half an hour later, he decided to give up.

Breathing out a sigh, he considered remedies for restless nights. He hated milk, so a warm glass of the nasty white liquid was out. He could sing himself a lullaby, but that felt childish to him. Plus, the only ones he knew reminded him of his mother, and if he went to bed thinking of her, he was sure to have a nightmare about the night they tried to bring her back. Ed shook his head and sat up, dispelling the old terrifying memories.

No, he needed to relax. Kai and Al had pushed him into a state of unrest. Deciding to try and calm himself down, he flexed and released his muscle groups one by one, starting from his head all the way to his toes. He tried to let his thoughts dissolve and melt away with the exercise, but his mind kept running. It was making his body tense up again. That’s it. He’d had it. He needed to relax.

Ed looked over at his brother’s sleeping form and crawled out of bed. He’d go take a bath and let the hot water sooth him. He got up as silently as he could and grabbed his towel, spare clothes, and toiletries before heading to the bathroom down the hall.

The late hour meant that no one would bother him so long as he kept quiet. The hall to the bath was filled with quiet presence; it seemed like no one in the hotel was awake, but Ed felt like he was not alone. He filled the tub with hot water just below his tolerance level and sank into the heat. Shivers cascaded over his skin as his body acclimated to the water’s temperature.

He rested his head against the tub’s edge, using his long hair as a pillow, not caring if the ends floated on the water’s face. Closing his eyes, he imagined his tight muscles loosening with every moment they were submerged. His breath fell into a steady tempo as he began to relax.

Watching the surface rise and fall with each inhale and exhale, Ed followed the ripples in the water with his eyes as they broke against his bare knees, one shining metal and the other tanned skin. He raised his arms from beneath the steaming liquid and wiggled his fingers in the waves before running his hands over his chest to begin washing himself with soap.

Lathered fingers slid slowly over the planes of his body. Each touch glided over rough scars and smooth tissue with light pressure, sending tingles through him where he made contact. His skin was prickling, sensitive from the hot water and seductive sensations.

He closed his eyes as he brushed his right automail hand, warmed from the water, over his chest, imagining another’s hand instead of his own. Sliding his fingertips down his toned stomach, he could feel the ridges of each muscle. His touch veered further down his torso, tracing his hip to tease his inner thigh before heading back up.

Tentative at first, he reached for his growing erection with his left hand. He was already half hard, and began to make well-rehearsed strokes. His member was soon at full attention. Gripping the base of his cock, he slid his fist up and down, up and down. Shuttering, he felt a pulse of pleasure streak through him with every repetition.

“Hmm…” he breathed.

Picking up speed, he began to filter through his more enticing fantasies. Usually they featured faceless forms, but tonight Ed was imagining one of his favorites more clearly. From behind him, a sultry brunet brushed his wet full lips against Ed’s jaw. Jolts of heat traveled behind his ear, down the side of his neck, and then across his shoulder as a practiced mouth tasted him. It sent shivers down his spine to think of it.

“Hmm…” he breathed in the thick air, heavy with heated want.

Strong arms encircled him, pressing his back into a chiseled and welcoming chest. He felt a soft hand caress down his abs again, sending tingles in its wake as it passed along his hip to his inner thigh. Strokes continued to move up and down his silken cock.

“Nn…” the heady sound escaped his lips, but its sound slipped through the air unheeded.

His fictional lover continued his exploration down to Ed’s balls, fondling them for a moment before moving on. Ed imagined muscular legs surrounding his own as fingers crept down further. He rolled his head back against broad shoulders as pressure built in his hips in anticipation.  A warm hard finger messaged around his entrance, and he could feel it pucker at the touch. The grip on his enlarged manhood grew strained as friction pumped him again and again.

“Mmhff… Ah…” His voice straining to keep quiet in the echoing, sweating tiled bath.

Traces of sensation shot out along his back, making his muscles spasm. Pressing his opening against the rigid shaft at his ass, he felt himself inhale at the enticing intrusion. As his ringed muscles accepted the admission further in, the sensation sent tantalizing shockwaves throughout his body, and his breath hitched.

“Mmhh hmm… Mmh…” he grunted, biting his lower lip, afraid of drawing attention to his actions and having some other guest interrupt him.

Ed’s lips craved the taste of the man he imagined. He would have loved to reach up his arm to ensnare the raven haired man’s wild, yet short mane, combing his fingers through it. He wished he could see lust growing in the deep pools of dark eyes. He could almost see the whole of the amorphous man he imagined. Inspired, he continued.

He pushed down on the stiff tool he was using and began to message the inside of his heated passage. His body needed more, and his fantasy man behind him knew what to do. Another automail finger joined its fellow with an effortless action, making Ed’s back arch with desire.

“Aahh… Ha…” After a moment to allow his body to acclimate to the additional pressure, he began to move again, enjoying the mounting sensations. Sliding the solid fingers in to their full length, they slowly began to withdraw until only the tips remained. Before they could leave him wanting, they slipped back into Ed’s tight sheath. “Ahh…” Again. “Ah…” And again. “Mmph… ah…”

The joint feelings of the steady stoking of his cock with the push-pull of the unyielding fingers gliding in and out encouraged him further. His head back, imagined lips on his neck, Ed strained to breath steadily now. His hips twitching at the hypnotizing rocking of his body.

A low murmur of the brunet man he imaged began to induce Ed beyond his self-control. The fingers within him began to stretch him wider, preparing him for a third. His body shook at the thought. “Hn… Mmph… Ha…” Withdrawing them slightly to accommodate the new addition, Ed felt a jolt as he took in all three fingers. “Ah… Mmphah…

He was close now; he could feel it. Every heart beat pulsed wildly, his breathing was ragged, and the ache in his body was pooling low in his hips. “Yeah... ahm...” He abandoned his previous rhythm and slid against the pressure within him. Persuasive strokes radiated pleasure along his cock and up his back.

“Fuck. Ha… Mmphka… haa…”

He heaved his chest, trying to contain all of the sensations racing through him. Yearning for a reprieve, he pressed the nub in his ass that sent electricity through his veins.

“Ah!” He pressed it again, “ha… ah…” and again “ahhmm,” begging for his release. “Ah… yeah… ah… almost…” He slid his fist up once more on his manhood before pressing his prostate for the last time as he came. “Aaahhhh fuuuckha! Ahh!” His member squeezed, discharging his seed as the circle of his muscles gripped his fingers tightly, “mmmph ah…” He shuttered, “Mmmh…” as his body finally relaxed.

Ed breathed unsteadily for a few moments savoring the total release of all his tension. Slowly, he removed his metal digits, flexing them to alleviate their strain. After a few moments, he unplugged the tub and turned on the shower head. He stood then and watched the white froth of his release on the surface of the water retreat down the drain.

It had been a while, but it had been completely worth it. He was glad he’d decided on this method to unwind enough to sleep. He was ready for it now.

Ed finished washing quickly, making sure to clean his automail limbs and to oil them too. He didn’t have Winry to help him maintain them, so he had to do it right without the threat of her wrench to his head. Drying his long hair and slick body thoroughly, he changed into his pajamas and returned to his room. His bed felt cozy, but as soon as he laid down, surrounded by the same reminders, his mind began to churn again.

He was able to drift off eventually, but the same issues remained. His brother wanted him to date, and Kai wanted to fuck him or just fuck with him. He sighed, instead trying to distract himself from his annoyances with his remembered release.

He wondered about the man he’d imagined as he fell asleep. Beyond being a favorite fantasy, he felt familiar somehow; it was a curious thought.


	9. Chapter 9

***Balancing of the Sun and the Moon***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

“Hey, Bastard,” Ed called as he flung open the door to the plain office. No one was there, so Ed walked in and flopped down on the dark leather couch. He slid down onto his back across the seats and covered his eyes with his arm.

He was agitated and knew exactly why he was envisaging this room again. Even though he had gone out of his way to try and tire himself out specifically so he wouldn’t have a lucid dream tonight, here he was nonetheless.

Ed was conflicted. What he knew of sex, he had picked up from Noah, roadhouses while traveling Amestris, lewd military guys and their jokes, or books he’d read. He must have been really focused on his own mission to have missed ‘the talk’ from Teacher while growing up, but getting it from his little brother was just plain idiotic. What he needed was advice, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it from Mustang. Even a dream version of the bastard.

“Gah!” He croaked, irritated. Why did Al have to say all that to him? What did it matter if he dated, much less who he dated?

“You might want to find somewhere else to sleep, Fullmetal,” Mustang admonished and smirked upon suddenly appearing in his occupied office.

“Hey, General,” Ed shot up to a seated position and paused. “Did you mean what you said before?” he inquired while looking at the floor, realizing that it was stupid to ask his subconscious if it was being truthful. Wasn’t that it’s whole purpose according to Freud’s new theories?

“What did I say?” Mustang queried, sounding a bit confused. Ed was sure the faux bastard was flipping back through every conversation they’d ever had.

“Last time, you said I could come talk to you,” Ed clarified apprehensively not looking at the mental representation of his CO.

***

“That’s not exactly what I said,” hedged Roy, sitting down behind his desk. He was curious, but not sure if he could take two nights in a row of these dreams. They always left him with too much residual energy and uncomfortable self-reflections afterwards.

“Whatever. It’s basically what you said,” Fullmetal muttered fumbling with his gloves. “You know what,” he said irritated, “forget it, Bastard.” He stood to leave.

“Come on, Fullmetal,” Roy gave in to his inquisitiveness, chuckling. “Don’t be like that. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Nah. It’s not important. Just forget it,” the young blond dismissed the topic resentfully, crossing his arms over his chest, but did not move towards the exit.

“What’s got you so riled up?” Roy asked, more interested now. He could see the tension in this fictional Fullmetal’s shoulders.

“Just something Al said. It just really got under my skin is all,” Fullmetal brushed it off, waving his hand dismissively.

“Well…” Roy coaxed, leaning forward in his chair and indicated his imaginary counterpart should sit back down with a sweep of his arm.

“It’s stupid, really,” Fullmetal wavered as he sat back down not looking in Roy’s direction. “He got on my case because I don’t date.”

Well, this was taking an unexpected turn. Roy wasn’t sure what prompted this line of thinking. Maybe it was that his last few dates had been nothing but gossip/evidence gathering.

“He said I have a right to live my own life, go on dates, and stop denying myself what I want in life…” Fullmetal sighed heavily, brushing his bangs out of his face with his gloved hand. “Thing is, I never really thought about what I wanted for me. I’ve spent most of my life going after one goal or another… I never took the time to figure it out.”

“Well, you do have the right to a life,” Roy conceded, trying not to read too much into his own words. Roy knew he himself should be allowed a life of his own, but he had too many people counting on him to let himself be that selfish.

“Heh. Yeah, that’s probably true, but dating? Come on. I never really had the time or thought seriously about it. When I was younger, of course I noticed the people I was attracted to, but I wouldn’t act on it. I thought that if it was something Al couldn’t experience as armor, then I shouldn’t either. It didn’t seem fair.”

“And now?” Roy prodded, not sure if he should. Where was his unconscious mind going with this? Why would Roy use that line of logic, ‘if Al couldn’t experience’ it? What was his reasoning for not wanting to date seriously? Obviously, not a suit of armor, but what prevented him? And why should Roy be thinking about dating, anyways? There were other more important things to consider, like how to investigate what Major General Hakuro was up to; the man was clearly acting strangely over the past week.

***

Ed had fallen asleep with Kai and Al’s words spinning around and around in his head, even after his nighttime escapade in the tub. He wasn’t naïve; he knew to whom he was attracted. But he had only really begun exploring those feelings once he was in Germany.

It had never been an issue in Amestris, not that he had done anything about it, but here in Germany, social mores were much stricter. Germans, or at least those vocal few, felt that a man was to be with a woman, and that was it, not both or either.

“I don’t know. That’s the other thing Al said to me, that if I was going to date …” Ed equivocated, leaving out some of his brother’s words. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Mustang, even a false version in his dreams, “… that I’d have to be careful, as if I didn’t already know that.”

***

Well that took Roy for a loop. He felt apprehensive all of a sudden, with a rolling feeling low in his stomach. Why was he dreaming about who Fullmetal might be attracted to?

“And who do you want to date? Women? Men? Both? Neither?” Roy tried not to guess as he reexamined his own sexual preferences.

“I don’t know. I mean, I _know_ , but… I don’t know… Both?” Fullmetal blushed and looked off to the side while scratching the back of his neck and hiding in his bangs.

“Both,” Roy repeated as flatly as he could. They each took a beat to absorb that information. He stood, moving around his desk before leaning his posterior on along its edge and crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t Izumi Curtis talk with you about this?” Roy asked, trying to emotionally distance himself and take a clinical approach. It was a dream after all, even if he was lucid, so he should just go with it, right?

“Not really. I was probably too young to get the full ‘talk,’ but she told me some stuff,” the blushing blond murmured while imitating a search through his memories of training with his alchemy master.

“Do you remember having a discussion with her about the ‘Balancing of the Sun and Moon?’” Roy asked, thinking over his own training on the subject.

“Sun and moon? I think so… you mean how the sun represents masculinity and the moon femininity?” Fullmetal probed, confused.

“That’s partially it,” Roy affirmed as he came to sit down on the couch beside the fidgeting tanned figure, remembering his own lessons. “The ‘Balancing of the Sun and Moon’ refers to the strength of an alchemist and the inner balance between the two forces. Those balanced in all things, including sexuality, are supposedly the most powerful.

“It’s preferable to find the right balance for yourself, of course. However, for those alchemists who find their balance to be equally attracted to both male and female partners, it’s said their inner strength manifests by surpassing all others in their alchemic skill.”

“Really?” a surprised faux Fullmetal asked earnestly, truth registering on his features.

Roy had always been told he was a genius with fire alchemy, but had forgotten that it could be linked with his sexual preferences. Obviously, his skill was not to the level of his missing officer; Fullmetal was an alchemic prodigy in all areas of the field.

“Yes. Masters even encourage their apprentices to sleep with both men and women before dismissing it out of hand. At the time, you were probably too young to really understand it when it was discussed.” Roy thought back to how, even though he’d been raised at a whore house, he had wanted to sprint from the room in his embarrassment as Master Hawkeye discussed it dryly with him over afternoon tea early in his apprenticeship. He had probably been 13 at the time and hadn’t understood it all for a number of years afterwards.

“Yeah, I guess I was too young to get it,” Fullmetal agreed, nodding. He then comically whipped around to face the older alchemist. “Wait, they do?”

“Some might even say that ‘Balancing of the Sun and Moon’ is more than _finding_ a balance; it’s _having_ a preference for both. In alchemic circles, true bisexuality is actually preferable to hetero- or homosexuality because it’s more harmonious with the ‘perfection of the universe.’”

“Huh. So then… besides bisexuality, is there a preferred sexual orientation among alchemists?” Fullmetal asked, and Roy could see the wheels turning behind honey eyes.

“No, all other sexualities are considered equivalent,” Roy clarified.

***

“How do you know so much about this?” Ed wondered, surprised by how much he must have remembered from Teacher’s lecture. She had found him in some old alchemic texts on sexuality when he was living with her; he couldn’t have been older than 10 years old. She probably thought giving him ‘the talk’ through alchemic theory would make him listen. It was weird hearing her words coming from Mustang’s alluring lips, but that’s how dreams worked, right?

***

“I was apprenticed with Master Hawkeye throughout my teens. It was one of the lengthiest lessons,” Roy said remembering his mentor’s rough teaching methods for his lengthy and tedious lectures.

“Hawkeye?” Fullmetal repeated the familiar name.

“Yes, Lieutenant Hawkeye’s father was my mentor before I enlisted,” Roy nodded when reminded of that fact. His mentor had been displeased to say the least when Roy had joined the academy after his apprenticeship, but had gotten over it enough to bequeath all alchemy texts to him when the old alchemist had died.

“So, Master Hawkeye told you to sleep with both men and women, huh?” Fullmetal asked.

“Yes, he did,” Roy paused before finishing his thought, “and I did.” Thinking back over the years and his long list of lovers. A handful of women and a few men stood out in his mind from his years of playing the field. He remembered them fondly, but without any strong emotions like love or anger.

Silence fell between them for a time.

It was true that most of Roy’s partners were women, but they were not his only partners. He had been with his share of men, too. He just hadn’t met anyone recently that peeked his interest. While he had dated many from whom he could glean important political insights, his actual taste in partners tended to follow a type regardless of gender. She or he tended to be smart, someone with whom he could have an intelligent conversation, someone with whom he could verbally spar, someone witty, strong, and fit; usually blonds with long hair and…

‘Oh shit!’ Roy thought in surprise. ‘Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!’

“Did it hurt?” Fullmetal’s timid question brought Roy back to his surroundings.

“What?” Roy asked confused as he snapped out of his realization, leaning further away from the appealing mental representative sitting anxiously beside him.

“Being with a man,” Fullmetal mumbled. “Did it hurt?” He wrung his fingers nervously.

Roy watched the young man’s actions, wondering why his subconscious would ask him that. How strange it was to have this sort of conversation with one’s own mind.

“Mhmm, Fullmetal…” Roy stalled, feeling uneasy now. These dreams were getting to be a little too real. “I’m not sure I should answer that…”

“Like I said, there’s no one I can talk to about this sort of thing. If I could, don’t you think I would have?” Fullmetal blushed almost crimson, boring holes into the floor and hiding as well as he could in his bangs.

What was Roy expecting of his subconscious? He didn’t know, but he was starting to accept that part of himself that yearned for more than he had allowed himself before. Roy sighed and looked anywhere but at Fullmetal. He was beyond upset. Why would his mind push him in this direction? Obviously, he had to be more sexually frustrated than he thought.

“It hurts a little the first time, but in a good way.” Roy remembered being young and scared about the prospect of being with someone. “If you find the right person, someone who will help prepare you, then no, it shouldn’t hurt.”

“Ok…” Fullmetal replied cautiously, waiting for more information.

“There are other things you can do with a man if you are worried about it,” Roy acknowledged, thinking about his previous trysts with men that had been less experienced and more nervous than he had been. “It’s not all about the physicality either. No matter who you are with, a man or woman, there is a level of trust and intimacy in being with someone. That should come first, then the physical will follow.”

Roy sounded like a hypocrite to his own ears. How many partners had he left in their beds before they woke up? He would make sure they each had a good time together the night before, but was Roy ever intimate with anyone like he was suggesting to this dreamed Fullmetal?

Maybe Roy should listen to his own advice. He was not interested in having a relationship with the people he was sleeping with now, anyways. So maybe he should hold off until he found someone he actually wanted to be with? Someone like the brilliant and beautiful vision beside him? Was that what Roy was trying to tell himself? He was getting confused. Was he sexually frustrated or was he wanting something deeper and more meaningful?

“Alright,” Fullmetal accepted nervously, standing in his unease. “Thanks for the information. I’ll take off now,” he toned awkwardly as he made his way to the darkened doorway not meeting Roy’s unobstructed eye.

“Fullmetal,” the general called to the blond man’s broad back. Roy was thankful when he saw the white mist begin to form in the depths of the entryway beyond.

“Yeah?” the young alchemist stopped and stood facing the door.

“It’ll be ok,” Roy promised sincerely. “Just don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable, and only be with someone you trust.”

“Sure,” Fullmetal replied, seemingly relieved as he walked into the encroaching mist.

***

‘Someone I trust,’ Ed thought as he began to gain consciousness, Mustang’s face floating in his mind’s eye. The smug façade hadn’t been there in his dream. The presence there had only been a facsimile of the strong, powerful, infuriating, manipulative Bastard he knew, but why was it him that Ed always had lucid dreams about?

The general had been there for him every time he’d needed help. Mustang had covered for and listened to him, even if his CO had constantly pushed his buttons, manipulating him to get the most self-serving and advantageous outcome. But… he could trust that Mustang’s ministrations were for the greater good. Mustang was a man he could trust. Ed just wished he’d known that when he’d been in Amestris.

Taking in all that Ed had remembered of the Sun and the Moon, he felt himself relax in his own skin for the first time in ages. It was fine to be who he was, in total balance; actually, it was a sought after existence in Amestrian alchemy. It was nothing to be ashamed of, even if he did have to hide it here in Germany.

Thinking it over, as if rolling a cool smooth rock around in his metaphorical hand, he finally knew what he wanted. Or more specifically, who he wanted. Figures that when Ed realized who it was, the man would be in a different dimension.

Damn it. Well, there were always his dreams… right?


	10. Chapter 10

***A Lack of Planning***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Berlin, Germany, May 1924

After sleeping in and showering swiftly, Alphonse and his brother grabbed a late breakfast, or early lunch depending on who you ask, at a café down the block that the nice lady at the front desk told Alphonse about. His optimistic steps wove a path for him and a quiet Brother through the bustle of Berlin to the auction preview.

Alphonse could tell Brother was irritated today. His soundless agitation was radiating off him in waves. Brother probably didn't have a hangover, as he swore he'd only had the one drink with the enigmatic Kai last night, unlike the month they had stayed at his flat above Gracia Johann's flower shop.

Although Alphonse hardly expected Brother to be in high spirits after their strained discussion last night, he had hoped that Brother would feel less irritable knowing that Alphonse didn't care about his brother's sexuality.

No, Alphonse suspected this bad mood had more to do with whatever his brother had dreamed last night. Usually, if Brother had a nightmare, he would wake up screaming or in a panic, which was about 2-3 nights a week. When his brother dreamed a dreamless sleep the other nights, he would be groggy the next day until he had a few cups of coffee in him. Then there were the rare nights, maybe once every six to eight weeks. Those mornings where it was obvious that Brother had a decent dream, maybe even a happy one, he never shared those exceptional ones with Alphonse.

It was to these benign dreams that Brother had the strangest reactions. He would wake up smiling or confused, but then become energetic or irritable, respectively. Maybe these dreams were like the ones Alphonse himself was having about Amestris, home, and Winry.

Alphonse missed his world, but was glad to be with his brother. They had been through so much together: studying alchemy as children first from their father's books and then with Teacher, trying to bring their mother back, losing his body as well as Brother's arm and leg, Brother joining the military, searching for the stone, Brother's death, bringing him back, being separated with Alphonse missing years of memories, the German invasion, coming to live in Germany, and Alphonse regaining his memories.

As long as they were together, they could do anything. As long as they were together, Alphonse was home, or at least that was the sentiment. It had been hard adjusting to Germany, though. With the body doubles of the people he knew and loved, yet not knowing them, and getting used to the social norms of this world, it had been difficult. It had sometimes been painful to the point of aching.

It was just like Brother said. 'Germany is like home except names and places are a little different, but with some familiar faces.' He was glad that the gate had given him back his memories of the years searching for the stone, but it made living here harder.

Alphonse missed Resembool's rolling hills, snow in Central, Elicia's laugh, and Winry's apple pie. Actually, he missed the blond woman's warm embrace. In the years of being on his own, he had lived with Teacher and visited Winry often. His oldest friend would take every opportunity to hug him, and Alphonse missed those embraces.

Brother, on the other hand, didn't like to be touched, especially since his automail surgery, and Alphonse understood that. He tried to give his brother space, but sometimes he just wanted a hug from someone he loved to make him feel at home.

Whenever he thought of home, Alphonse always thought of Winry. She colored his memories. Her hair, the color of yellow lilies from the field behind their old house, her eyes, as bright as a clear afternoon sky above Resembool, and her smile, her real smile could light up the world. She was always there, caring for them, being there for them. And Alphonse missed her.

Brother yanked on his shirt sleeve pulling him out of his musings of home and the beautiful girl out of his reach as they navigated the busy hotel lobby. Oops; he had absently neglected the whole walk there. Time to pay attention.

"Did you hear what I said, Al? We might get lucky. I just overheard that archduke guy from England say something about research notes being an auction lot as well!" Brother sounded much more hopeful than he had all morning.

"That's great, Brother. Imagine if both the bomb and all the notes were here! Wow! That would save us so much time in trying to track them all down. Let's go check it out." Alphonse smiled as he thought of the possibilities.

The brothers sped to the viewing by way of the elevators. They were dressed in their best clothes… ok, their cleanest, least wrinkled outfits. Alphonse had insisted on it, hoping to look like the henchmen of some bigwig buyer who was too busy to come himself. They had no chance of being mistaken as buyers themselves, he had reasoned, not with the expensive silks, lace, and other fine fabrics the real bidder's they'd identified were wearing.

Hoping to not draw attention, they arrived around 12:30 PM on the landing outside of the display room. As they headed to the door, a man in a lavish suit and polished shoes noticed them. Once he took in their appearance, he immediately walked towards them.

"No, no, no," he was saying looking both annoyed and anxious. "You are supposed to come to the back door and meet me there at 3 PM to transport the items," he admonished gruffly looking over the brothers' shoulders for anyone coming.

"Ah," Alphonse stalled, "well, we were supposed to check the items before transportation. You know how it is," he lied, "if we get it wrong, then it will be our heads." He hoped that the man would not see through the thin story, but this man had already mistaken them for someone else.

"Fine, but be quick about it. You need to be out of the way before Lt. Hess begins the preview in a half hour. Use the main door here, but exit through the back. If there is a problem, figure it out. Jacopo said he would meet you at the vault after we close the showing. Then you can bring the items back tomorrow for the auction. Understand?" He asked with little room to disagree.

"Understood," the brothers indicated together.

"We won't let Lt. Hess see us, believe me," Brother smiled so wide Alphonse imagined yellow canary feathers on his cat grin. They were going to have to work on Brother's poker face. Hopefully the well-dressed man wouldn't notice.

"Good, now get going. I do not want anyone else to see you in there either, got it?"

"Yes, thank you," Alphonse replied as they scurried to investigate the auction items. Making eye contact, they entered the room sharing a baffled look. At least they looked good enough to be movers. However, if Lt. Hess really was here, they needed to be especially careful; Hess couldn't find Brother here. As for himself, he figured Lt. Hess would take him as a relative of Alfons' or not notice him at all. Brother was the one Lt. Hess would recognize immediately, and that could not happen.

They approached a red velvet covered table draped with matching curtains. A large vase with flowers sat between two sets of items embedded in the fabric. To the left, tattered notebooks were artfully displayed with one opened to a page near the center of the book with sketches of the bulbous item to the right.

Alphonse could see Brother's jaw nearly hit the floor. On this table lay the uranium bomb and all the related notes! The brothers took a collective breath before turning to each other again with stunned glee. Here were the items they had been looking for over the last six months! And here the brothers were… alone in a room with the bomb and the notes used to create it literally on a bed of velvet! Alphonse couldn't believe their luck!

"Should we take it now, Brother, or should we wait until the end of the viewing when they just hand them to us?"

"Well," his brother considered, "if we take them now, we had better do it quickly. People will be here any minute. If we wait, there's a chance that whoever's really supposed to pick them up for that Jacopo guy will show up, and then we'll have to do more tracking. Gaw," he huffed, "I didn't really think this was going to be it, ya know?" He indicated the tableful with a sweeping hand. "Everything out here in the open. I didn't bring anything to carry it in. What do we carry it in, Al?" he demanded with a hint of hysterics in his voice.

"How am I supposed to know, Brother? This was your plan, remember?" squeaked Al. "What should we do?"

"Uh…" Brother stalled looking around frantically then paused, "well, that vase looks pretty big…"

They both turned their sights to the ceramic container in the center of the table with flowers artfully displayed. It was bigger than the bomb, but just barely. They both looked at each other again, and immediately sprang into action.

Brother grabbed the vase and pulled the flowers out, dumping the water behind the table. Then he laid the flowers along the velvet covered table. He gently wrapped the bomb in the loose fabric it was already cradled in before placing it snuggly into the vase.

At the same time, Alphonse began to pull his shirt from his trousers. He then reached for the notebooks, tucking them into his pants at the front and back. He motioned for his brother to quickly do the same. They fixed their appearance before grabbing their new vase with their hidden bomb, and then, moving as smoothly as possible to not dislodge the notes from their pants, they calmly, if stiffly, walked out the back exit.

Swiftly they descended stairs and wound through winding corridors to the back of the hotel, exiting into an ally. They crossed town quickly, returning to their room. Hurriedly, they packed their suitcase and duffle bag, hiding the notes within, and left for the train station. If no one was after them now, they soon would be. Within the hour, they were on a train back to Munich.

Alphonse considered where they could hide out. He also thought they would have to give Mr. Lang a call to let him know the lead he'd given them had paid off.

"When should we call Mr. Lang?" Alphonse asked settling into their train compartment.

"When we get to Munich. I don't want to stop for any reason or show our faces anywhere along our route," he said while pulling down the blind on the compartment's door before sitting. "We should get in right after nightfall, so we should be a little less recognizable. Hopefully, we can make our way to a hotel we have never stayed at, where no one knows us, and call Fritz then." Brother said anxiously. "I know I am being paranoid, but now that I'm thinking it through, it may not have been entirely smart to have taken these out from under all those rich, obviously morally corrupt, people's noses."

"Well, it's too late to worry about it now, Brother," Alphonse chided, feeling his own sense of unease bite his words. "Besides," he said, trying to calm his nerves, "what are they going to do about it? They didn't see the items or us, did they? They didn't even know what they were there to bid on. It was lucky that we got in before anyone saw them," Alphonse reasoned, eyeing the vase on the seat next to his brother and then up to the overhead compartment where their suitcase and duffle containing the notebooks sat innocently.

"Yeah. Hey, that makes me feel better," Brother smiled appreciatively, "but it was still too easy. We should be careful," he said slightly more at ease but with an edge of wariness.

"Right," Alphonse agreed. Brother was right; that felt too easy. They needed to stay on their guard, after all, only Kai knew their faces and names.

* * *

 

Alphonse and Edward had not noticed the three dark shadows that followed them by rooftop. Kai and his companions leapt above the brothers, building to building, hotel to hotel to train station, to avoid the revealing bands of hidden sunlight. Kai wondered what the figures below were doing. He didn't know, but the fact that the brothers were running meant they were up to something.


	11. Chapter 11

***Going into Hiding***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Munich, Germany, May 1924

As they put away the research notes they had been pouring over on the train ride back to Munich, Ed knew he and Al felt both elated and daunted by the task in front of them. The brothers now knew what had happened to Huskisson and his Thule research staff.

They were dead.

Dead from exposure.

Their notes detailed how the bomb came to be and held hints of the scientists' attempts to reduce the exposure effects. Ed was sure the way to disable it was in here somewhere as well.

Science was science, no matter where you were, no matter which world you were in. And Ed was a scientist first and foremost. He knew the principles of the natural world were stable and, therefore, predictable. Newton's laws of thermodynamics and Flamel's alchemic principles were the same. Nothing can be created or destroyed, only changed from one form to another; composition, deconstruction, reconstruction in accordance with equivalent exchange.

Ed knew that the answer to the uranium bomb's destructive riddle was science, so he knew he and Al would be able to solve it. They just needed time… one thing they didn't have. Time was going to be a silent killer, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to Al. Not again.

By the time their train pulled into Munich Station, it was dark out. They found a hotel that neither brother had been to before, and were nearly ignored as they checked in. The man behind the registration desk was arguing with another man reading a newspaper in the lobby about the inflated price of tobacco and who they could blame for it. Fucking idiots, both of them, but the argument served him and his younger brother, so screw it. The room they rented had both a phone on the same floor and a restroom en suite. As places to stay went, this one was checking all the boxes.

Ed unlocked the door to their room, letting Al in first with their bags while he followed holding their vase that overflowed with red velvet. The room was a little bigger than the last place they had stayed at in Munich. It was stuffy, and Al was a mind reader for opening the window before coming back to the middle of the room.

As soon as they were both in, Ed locked the door and they breathed a shared sigh of relief as they each sank down onto their respective twin beds. You never realized all the stress you were under until you weren't anymore.

Ed sat on the mattress closest the window and Al on the one by the door. They always had Al by the door and Ed by the window; Ed wasn't sure why, but moonlight was as good for reading as it was for not waking Al.

Now all they had to do was call Fritz, guard against death by contamination, and figure out how to disable a uranium bomb. No big deal. Although, one was probably going to be easier to do than the others.

"Brother…" Al began apprehensively as he looked at their dangerous trophy in Ed's tired arms.

"Yeah, I know, Al. We've got a lot of research to do," Ed slid his hand over his exhausted face, but smiled at his younger brother. "Get some sleep, Al. I'll go call Fritz and let him know the good news," Ed exhaled as he got off the bed, put the deceptively innocuous vase on the chest of draws, and went for the door.

"Alright, Brother," Al agreed, walking to the bathroom to wash up after their eventful day.

"Night, Al."

"Night, Brother."

"Night, boys," floated a familiar voice from the window.

Ed spun around and Al reentered the room. There on the window ledge were Kai, Lan-Fan, and Fu.

"That was a dirty trick you pulled," Kai chimed amused. "I didn't realize you were thieves." He grinned pleasantly, but there was malice behind his words.

"We're not thieves!" Ed and Al shouted in unison.

"Taking something that does not belong to you means you are a thief," Kai informed them as he and his entourage casually entered the brothers' room through the open window.

"Who said it's not ours to begin with?" Ed asked defensively.

"Is it?" Kai asked genuinely interested.

"It's complicated," Ed answered, brushing his bangs out of his face, and Kai waited for him to continue.

"It's our responsibility," Al put in trying to explain, assured in their duty.

Kai calmly crossed into the room and sat himself on Ed's bed while Lan-Fan and Fu stood close behind him.

"Tell me," Kai ordered as he made himself comfortable and imposing at the same time. He sat straight, bent his legs in front of him, and crossed his arms over his chest. His shaved head added a sternness to his pose, belying his youth. Obviously, he was used to getting the answers to his questions and demands, even if he was sitting on a dingy old bed in a low class hotel.

"You wouldn't believe us even if we told you. Let's just say, we're responsible for it, and we're going to do what we need to do to take care of it," Ed told them, trying to keep any details from reaching the inhabitants of this world.

"Not good enough. Tell me, or I will let Lt. Hess know exactly where his property is, whatever it is, and who took it," Kai threatened, taking on Ed's hard gaze, challenging him to see if Kai was bluffing.

"So, that means he doesn't already know, right? Why the hell should we tell you then? And what's in it for you? Why do you want to know? You were at the auction, so you knew there'd be something valuable; and like I said last night, I don't fucking trust you, Kai." Ed replied, listing his demanding questions.

"When the Thule Society proclaimed it would be auctioning something 'powerful,' something that would 'change the world,' I knew it would be dangerous. They attempted to overthrow their own country and failed, but that does not mean they are harmless, Edward. I had heard a visiting scholar describe the rockets Thule had commissioned this past fall. Obviously, whatever it was they were selling would be a threat to my people."

"Your people?" Ed asked for clarification, trying not to think about the pang in his heart at the reminder of his dead best friend, Alfons, the gifted rocket scientist.

"Soon I will be the ruler of China, and I will not have an unknown element endangering my countrymen," Kai explained regally, back straight, chin up, chest out. None of the previous playful teasing that Ed had seen the day before was evident now. Kai, undeniably, looked the part of a ruler.

Ed nodded as he took in what this new Kai said. He was glad to hear the bald man's reasons for being at the auction were more honorable than immoral, but it could still be a ploy. They needed to be cautious.

"Brother…" Al's eyes pleaded for Ed to tell the delegation the truth as he sat down on his unoccupied mattress.

"Ugh! Fuck. Fine, but you asked for it," Ed sat heavily on the bed beside his younger brother, trying to think of how much he could tell them. Their guests hadn't told Hess where they were yet, so they were safe for now. "Kai, Lan-Fan, Fu," he began, making eye contact with each of them before focusing on their leader, "this is a bomb." Ed spoke as if talking to children, waving his hand to the vase. "A bomb so devastating that it has already killed those who created and studied it."

All three of the Asian contingent took in the threat, then Lan-Fan and Fu instantly moved in front of their master. Ed laughed sardonically.

"That's nice, trying to protect him and all, but the truth is, if this fucker went off, Munich would no longer be here and the surrounding area would be dying of radiation poisoning. Not much you can guard him against."

The Chinese all looked at the vase and its sultry overflowing red velvet with a grave respect.

"It has since killed those who have studied it. Is it not a threat to us now?" Lan-Fan said formally, demanding in her stance, but Ed could hear the concern for her master in her words.

"Should be fine in low doses over short periods of time, but being around it for too long is definitely lethal," Ed acknowledged and met his younger brother's eyes, his own concern for Al coloring his thoughts.

They'd have to do something soon if Ed was going to keep his promise to himself: to keep Al safe. First, deal with Kai right now, then he'd have to talk Al into separating to keep him away from this damn radiation. Fuck, he was not looking forward to that battle. He shook his head and continued.

"Anyways, my brother and I have been searching for it for the past six months. The notes we collected today, and read thus far, indicate how it was created. So we know we can reverse engineer it, given enough time, but we can't do that if you give it back to Hess."

Ed watched for Kai's reaction, and when he made no discernable response, Ed continued.

"You have to know that power hungry asshole is a trigger happy jackass, right? We can't let him get his hands on this bomb or sell it to the highest bidder. It's too dangerous to exist," Ed beseeched the young leader on the bed across from him to see reason.

"If it is as dangerous as you say and you are responsible for it, then how did it come to be in the Thule Society's possession in the first place?" Kai asked curiously, but there was also accusation and suspicion lingering in his eyes.

Ed had to consider how much he could share. He couldn't tell them about Amestris and open that can of worms again, but how much would be enough? He wished that Mustang had taught him the art of telling only enough to get people to do what you needed them to do. Damn bastard.

"Well, originally… the man… who created the bomb… had proposed to show… our government its power, but when… he was refused, he… traveled… and found support in the Thule Society. They had been using it as a recruitment tool, but after they lost… their bid for power and their scientists started to die from exposure, they decided to sell it and cut their losses," Ed concluded.

He wished more than believed Kai hadn't noticed how he stumbled through the portions where he was omitting Amestrian history, but Ed still hoped Kai wouldn't ask about it.

"So you failed to keep it within your own country and the creator defected here? Your accents give you away. You are not German, even though you speak it fluently. Where are you from? America?" Kai tried to figure out the pieces that were obviously left out.

"None of that's important. What is important is that we destroy this damn bomb before it kills us and before anyone else discovers its deadly potential. You said you wanted to figure out how to protect your people from it; well, help us. Don't tell Hess where we are or that we took it. Give us enough time to neutralize, disarm, and destroy it and the research used to create it," Ed pleaded.

He could see Kai considering his request very seriously. He hoped his sincerity had shone in his words and eyes. They watched each other as the room held its breath for Kai to make his judgement. Ed could feel more than see his brother's tense body next to him, tension flowing off Al's stiff shoulders. Lan-Fan and Fu were eyeing the brothers with death in their stare, ready to follow whatever their master decided. The would-be ruler nodded slowly once, then opened his stern mouth.

"I believe your story Edward," and Ed blew out his breath, realizing he hadn't been breathing, "but only because you give everything away in its telling."

"Huh?" Ed asked confused. He was grateful that Kai took him at his word, but felt it was almost a backhanded compliment. He hadn't done a shitty job, had he?

"I understand not wanting to explain everything to a stranger, but you need to work on being more politic," Kai clarified.

"Yeah, well, that was never really my strong suit," Ed muttered, embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away for a moment.

"Which is?" Kai inquired.

Ed sat up and placed his hands on his thighs.

"Fieldwork," Ed said flatly with a blank face.

"Better. That is better," Kai commended, chuckling, returning to the spirited exotic man Ed knew. "Never give away the whole story, or even where the holes are in your story. You should never allow the person you are talking with to see anything other than what you want them to see."

"Thanks for the pointers. That what you're doing?" Ed was annoyed, but that didn't mean Kai's advice was crap. He'd have to discretely write it all down in his notebook later. Kai was a slight better than that bastard Mustang; at least the Chinese man wasn't ribbing him. He was actually giving some interesting suggestions.

"It was, when we first met; however, you should know I only want the best for my people. That includes a world without such destructive weapons in it. On that we can agree," Kai nodded forcefully once more over his crossed arms.

"So, you won't tell Lieutenant Hess anything?" Al asked, hope in his voice and clasped hands in front of his heart.

"Correct; I speak for Lan-Fan and Fu as well," Kai consented magnanimously, the pompous ass. "We will not disclose your involvement or location with Lieutenant Hess or his representatives. In exchange for our silence, I expect you and your brother to complete your mission and destroy this bomb."

"We were already going to do that, dumbass," Ed mumbled sourly.

"Then, we will leave you to it," Kai dismissed them as he laid down on the bed, looking like he was getting ready for bed.

"The fuck? What are you doing?" Ed inquired confused.

"Going to sleep. We did have to follow you from Berlin, and it was a long train ride. I am very tired," Kai waved him off with a smile, getting comfortable under the covers and fluffing a pillow, totally at ease. Lan-Fan and Fu had a silent discussion on who would take first watch.

"So get your own damn room!" Ed nearly yelled. "And that's my fucking bed!"

"You should keep it down, Edward. You wanted to remain unnoticed, did you not? Shouting will only alert people to your location, even if they have no interest in you." Then he raised his arm, lifting the comforter for Ed, an invitation. "And we can share the bed if you would like," Kai insinuated with a wider smile.

Ed blushed, opening his mouth to retort then decided against it, closing his lips tightly.

"No? Hmm, oh well," Kai rolled over unperturbed, then added an afterthought over his shoulder. "Additionally, you should curse less. It is more powerful when you discuss your ideas without resorting to vulgarities."

Al placed a restraining hand on Ed's shoulder before he could strangle the annoying Chinese man in his bed. Ed clinched his teeth and breathed deeply, trying to contain his irritation.

"Go get your own hotel room," he growled just above a whisper.

"Oh, no. We will stay here," Kai replied pleasantly over his shoulder. "If we were to reserve a room now, someone would likely recognize me later and inform Lieutenant Hess if asked. No. It is best to stay here, where no one has seen us."

"Gaw. Fine, but don't expect me to turn out the lights for you. I can't read in the dark," Ed spat, rising to walk to the door with his fists clenched.

"You are going to start now?" Kai sounded surprised. He turned over, propping himself up on his elbow, to take in the elder brother seriously.

"Yeah. Soon as I call my contact to tell him that we've found what we were looking for. I'll figure out containment so we don't die of exposure," Ed explained flippantly.

"Ah, yes. You are good at field work," Kai goaded amused, again turning over to go to sleep dismissively.


	12. Chapter 12

***Wait, What?***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Munich, Germany, May 1924

Ed flung open the door with a sure kick. Its wood slammed into the wall, and he sauntered through the entrance. He must have fallen asleep while pouring over Huskisson's notes in his now cramped hotel room. He'd been agitated, thinking about the bomb and Kai's arrival, but somehow exhaustion must have overwhelmed him. Oh, well; he was in a good mood.

"Hey Bastard, we found it!" He crowed proudly to the brunet figure in blue seated behind his desk on the far side of the room. Ed didn't even care that this was the third night in a row that he was lucid dreaming. They had found the bomb and its material research; plus, they had a new ally, even if Kai was a pain in the ass.

-8-

"Fullmetal," Roy bristled, especially irritated. He'd had a rough day, and he wasn't sure if he could take any more of these dreams. He usually woke from them with either excessive energy or self-recriminations.

He had more important things to concentrate on. Hakuro was becoming a more difficult man to deal with. He had made Fuery, the youngest of Roy's remaining team, nearly cry from badgering the Sergeant Major about some oddly specific Bradley Era communications to an agent abroad.

Roy must have fallen asleep while sifting through those documents with a fine tooth comb to find any incriminating evidence that might be lying in wait. He was either going to find some, or he was going to discover that the Major General was intentionally wasting his time.

Both options seemed plausible, and Roy really didn't want to be distracted by these dreams again. He needed to be three moves ahead of Hakuro, controlling the center of the board, not scrabbling to defend against seemingly random moves, losing tempo early in a long game.

In fact, he had been preoccupied the majority of the day, replaying his last conversation with his illusory Fullmetal. The brooding yet energetic young man in his dreams had to be a representation of his inner self, and, as such, Roy needed to figure out what he was trying to tell himself through these consecutive conjured discussions.

However, if that was true, why did it make his lower stomach flutter when he thought of Fullmetal's pouting pink lips or gleaming golden eyes? Was he that narcissistic that he was attracted to his own inner self? Even for Roy, that seemed a little farfetched. Or could it be, and Roy thought this more probable if just as disturbing, that he was attracted to the missing alchemist?

-8-

Ed slumped down, laying on the couch, not caring that this was where his last awkward dream occurred. He was so relieved. They had been searching for the bomb for the last six months, and not only had they found it, they had the research materials to go along with it! Finding out how to reverse engineer the thing was going to be easy with Huskisson's notes. He couldn't even be mad that Kai and company had followed them and were currently taking up his bed. As much as the guy got under Ed's skin, he was glad Kai turned out to be an ally.

"Heh, we actually did it," Ed smiled to himself, looking up at the formless whiteness above him.

"Did what, Fullmetal," Mustang said annoyed, "break my door?"

"Hey, what's with you, Bastard?" Ed complained turning his head to face his dreamed of CO.

"Nothing that concerns you, Fullmetal," Mustang replied trying to sound bored, but coming off perturbed. "Now if you will see yourself out, I have work to do."

"What? Having trouble filling your dance card, you bastard, or is it you can't decide: redhead, brunette, or blond?" Ed flippantly poked, but was confused by the subtle anger under imaginary Mustang's ordinary response.

"So long as they have long hair, the shade doesn't matter," Mustang replied with a patronizing smirk.

"Dick," Ed mumbled as he sat up fully. Why was the dream version of the general not as excited about this as he was? It was his subconscious, right?

"What was that?" Mustang commanded as he looked up, irritated.

"I called you a dick," Ed turned to face the older man. "What the hell, Mustang. This is supposed to be good news, but you can't pull your head out of your ass to see that."

A veiled obsidian eye just stared blankly back at him.

"See?" Ed said calmly, indicating Mustang with his hand. "Dick."

-8-

Roy exhaled and returned his attention to the papers he had in front of him trying to make his thoughts clear the blotted ink into something usable. Of course he couldn't read the dreamed words, but he needed space to think over the details he had gleaned from the communique he had been reading before arriving in this place.

"Again, I have no idea to what you are referring, and I have more important things to consider than if you found some trinket." He waved off the image of the amber hued man.

"Trinket?" Fullmetal repeated quietly as his hands clenched. He stood suddenly, exclaiming, "You jackass! I've been looking for that 'trinket' for the past six months!" The young alchemist crossed the room and put his hands on the front edge of the Roy's desk.

"Do you have something you want to say, Fullmetal?" Roy inquired in a cold voice. Roy was struck by the unexpected motion, but refused to be cowed by a dream. He put his elbows on his desk and brought his intertwined fingers to his lips. It worked in the office, why not in his imagination.

-8-

"Ugh!" Ed growled through gritted teeth. "Why are you such an ass? I finally find what I have been looking for, and you won't even acknowledge it," he said exasperated, pushing away from the desk.

What did it say that Ed's mental representation of Mustang wouldn't recognize that finding that damn bomb was a good thing? Why wasn't this dream version of the general happy about it? Did it mean that Ed wasn't really excited about it? Ed turned away from Mustang, biting the tip of his thumb while considering that last thought.

Sure Ed was relieved to have found it, but once they disabled and destroyed it, what then? What was he going to do with his life? What was he supposed to do after all the missions in his life were over?

-8-

Roy watched the tense line of Fullmetal's brown clad back. Mesmerized, his eye followed the golden ponytail as it swayed long over broad shoulders. Absently, he wondered how it would feel between his fingers. Shaking himself out of his distraction, Roy cleared his throat.

"Well, you found it. Now what?" Roy asked strategically, hoping that if he played along this dream would end. What was it Roy's unconsciousness had found? Hopefully it would be something good. If he could just ask the right question, maybe he'd find the answer he needed.

-8-

Having forgotten to be mad, Ed turned to face the fabricated general slowly, looking as empty as he felt. He considered his life here in Germany, and found it hollow. It was deflating to realize that beyond this mission, he had no plan for his life, little money, and few options.

This was just like after he and Al had closed the gate. Ed would be drifting again, nothing to hold onto but Al. The thought made him mournful, dropping his hand from his mouth, but held the other fast across his ribs. Ed loved his little brother, but that was no life. He wanted more, and Al deserved better than this half-life they had built.

"Destroy the threat, I guess. After that, I don't know," Ed sounded muted, even to himself, as he stood in the center of the room.

-8-

"Well, what do you want to do?" Roy prompted. He noticed the change in the mercurial Fullmetal, and leaned back, placing his elbows on the chair's armrests, but kept his lips covered. So he was right; Hakuro was up to something, and his mind was telling him to prevent the Major General from succeeding. He needed to 'destroy the threat,' whatever it was. He'd have to look closer into those records Hakuro had grilled Fuery about and more than likely, he would find his answer. There was something there, he just knew it.

-8-

"I don't know," Ed repeated, but answered honestly. He didn't know what to do without some pressing mission. What should he do? What could he do? That was probably why his subconscious was pushing him to decide.

-8-

"You have to keep moving forward, Fullmetal," Roy encouraged, hoping to remove that pained look in the younger alchemist's eyes. Roy noticed how lost Fullmetal looked without direction, almost like he had in a dream 6 months ago, after the gate closed, and once before, when they had first met.

Roy found it strange, comforting himself in a dream, but he figured that anyone would get tired of fighting one foe after another with very little reward for the trouble except survival. Roy simply needed to keep moving forward if he wanted to protect his people and all Amestrians. That's all there was to it.

-8-

"Yeah, you say that, but what am I supposed to do?" Ed turned back to the false Flame Alchemist, meeting his gaze. "Just find another mission? And then what? Live in this perpetual loop with no real place to call home?" Tightening his fists, Ed nearly cried. He felt despair edging in on his heart. He slowly crossed the room to stand at the wall of windows behind the general's desk, drawn by the blankness beyond.

-8-

"What do you want, then?" Roy pushed afraid of the answer. How much his heart ached to admit he felt alone in this fight was only eclipsed by the fact that Roy knew he would always feel like this. Yes, his men were with him, and he had allies, but sometimes, he realized, he needed more.

-8-

"The only thing I know I want, I can't have," Ed hedged as he looked out into the swirling nothingness on the other side of the glass. He didn't really want to think about it.

-8-

"Really?" Roy retorted with a chuckle as he turned his seat to follow the other man's advance. "Fullmetal, for as long as I've known you, I've yet to see you fail to do any of the impossible things you've done." Roy considered where he was in his own life. He had survived Ishbal, the loss of friends, and he had returned unscathed… mostly. He wasn't even 35, yet he was a Brigadier General on his way towards the Führership.

Roy wasn't sure why he kept addressing his unconscious as Fullmetal, though. As strange as it was, the image in front of him was his missing subordinate; it was responding to him as if it were a more mature and melancholy Fullmetal, but it felt even more awkward to call the golden hued figure in front of him 'Edward' or, more familiarly, 'Ed.'

-8-

Ed sighed. He knew where his subconscious was leading him, but he didn't know if torturing himself in these benign dreams was smart. Clinging to a vision of the man in front of him was not healthy. These were the only dreams he didn't wake up screaming from. Did he really want to add a new level of anguish… wanting the very definition of an unattainable man?

"It's not a 'something,' General," Ed felt a sinking feeling as he wavered. "It's a 'someone.'"

-8-

Roy swallowed behind his linked hands. Was he ready for this? Was he going to admit out loud to himself that he wanted this man? How could he? Why cruelly make himself suffer like this, wanting a man he couldn't have? This ultimate inaccessible man was worlds away, unreachable except as this fabricated version, hidden in dreams.

-8-

Ed wondered how honest he was going to be with himself. He had already realized what he wanted, but was he willing to do something about it, to really let himself have it, to really be happy, or crazy depending on your point of view?

White mist was beginning to form behind the windows and was spilling in through the open door on the far side of the office. If Ed was going do something, it was now or never. Turning sharply, decision made, Ed faced Mustang.

"The only thing I want is you, General."

-8-

Roy dropped his arms to his lap, letting down his walls.

-8-

Ed placed his hands onto the armrests of Mustang's chair and leaned forward so they were eye level, facing each other.

'This might have been a mistake,' Ed thought as he caught a faint whiff of Mustang's aftershave mixed in with the scent of the man. He smelled like a mixture of leather and earth, paper and ink, and a musk that tingled in Ed's brain.

"Come on, Mustang," Ed crooned; intoxicated by the fragrance, he leaned in further. "Kiss me before I stop dreaming and I have to take another cold shower."

-8-

Roy leaned forward smiling at the demand then stopped abruptly, stunned.

"Wait… what do you mean _you're_ the one dreaming?" Roy's voice sounded far away but rang throughout the white filling space. They both looked at each other with surprise and wonder as the world around them blurred and shifted, realization dawning on them both.

-8-

"What?" Ed began to ask in stunned confusion, then he felt a familiar pull from behind him. "No! No wait! Don't go!" he cried out to Mustang as the whiteness enveloped them. "Damn it!" He struggled, clawing into the mist, trying to get back. "What do you mean?!"

* * *

A/N: So... *anxiously trying not to get killed* did it live up to your expectations? It's been a long time coming and I love writing these dreams, but what did you think? I know I'm awful at leaving author notes, but I do love reviews. Please constructive criticisms only- this is still my first fanfic and my fragile little ego would appreciate it.


	13. Chapter 13

***Coffee?***

Central, Amestris, May 1918

Munich, Germany, May 1924

As consciousness returned, Roy was left wondering what was real. Was that just a bizarre lucid dream or had he been talking to the real Fullmetal? If so, how was that even possible?

He blinked his eyes open as he snatched up his open pocket watch from his library's desktop. It was gratuitously early, and the birds were chirping loudly outside his second story window this morning. However, he needed to clear his head.

He leaned back in the usually comfortable desk chair, rubbed his face, and closed his eyes, trying to remember every detail of the dream. Had he been about to kiss Fullmetal? Golden eyes had been equal to his as Roy's vision had slid down to full lips demanding to be kissed. Roy locked away the memory of those wanting lips a few inches from his own. He'd have to think about it later. There were bigger issues at play, like interdimensional communications, right?

Roy's mind was filled with sleep and fading images. He _had_ been leaning in to give what was asked for, only to stop when he absorbed the rest of what Fullmetal had said.

'Kiss me before I stop dreaming.' Fullmetal's voice echoed in Roy's mind.

At the time, Roy had only heard those first few words. While he had been shocked to hear them, he had wanted to comply none the less.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pushed away the memory of leaning forward for a kiss that never came to be revisited later. Just the thought of it made him question his sanity and made his gut clench. In what world was kissing Fullmetal a reality? He paused to consider that. There were at least two worlds that he knew about, so… maybe it was better if he didn't speculate too much.

Had he been to another world? No, probably not, seeing as he was still in his study with a crick in his neck that he was rubbing absently. Yet there was a genuine possibility that he and Fullmetal were connected somehow, at least in unconsciousness. He took in another calming breath, fighting to keep his logical mind around him like a shield against his rising psychotic episode.

If Roy took it at face value, though, and they were each dreaming of the other… No, it was more like they were sharing these dreams... In any case, it seemed unbelievable, yet rational, that the two of them were communicating across worlds.

The real question was: how were they doing it?

Roy looked at the pocket watch in his hand again and groaned. He had some digging to do today, and the unsightly hour was pressing him into action. He shoved the notes he'd been going over the night before into the alchemically hidden desk drawer and activated the lock. Standing, he slid his watch in his pocket and walked to his bedroom to begin getting ready for work, but his attention was on his deductions. The key to figuring out the 'how' of these dreams was to look at the 'when.'

When had the dreams begun?

He thought back to the first lucid dream, sifting through them all for clues. It had been a somber one, he recalled; it had been confusing in its newness and content. A nearly emotionally broken Fullmetal had talked about closing the gate, his brother, and something about a funeral. Roy had told the shorter man what he himself had decided, to 'keep moving forward.'

When Roy had woken up energetically from that initial dream, he had thought that it was simply composed of elements of his day-to-day life and his earlier musings, so he had brushed off its oddness until he'd had another one.

As he finished getting ready for what promised to be another hard day at the office, he left his home. Roy tried to remember when exactly that first dream had been… sometime before solstice, but after he'd closed the gate. His mind tugged at that last thought as he remembered the glowing portal and its array. The drawn circle had stung him with a rebound after he had inadvertently failed to reactivate it… when a drop of his blood had accidentally been smeared on it.

Nearly stumbling when the idea struck him, he reviewed his theories on the gate he'd closed. Roy was sure the circle was activated with an ancient form of alchemy, using blood to stimulate its circles. Hmm… his blood must have mixed in with the alchemy of the circle used to power the open portal. Had Fullmetal bled on a similar array? Had it happened on this side or the other?

He rolled the thought over in his mind as he crossed the busy intersection to get to his 'impromptu' early morning 'date.' He would have to think over the mystery of his dreams later. For now, he needed his attention on the inner workings of the Amestrian military. Hakuro was giving Roy's team a hard time, and he had an appointment with the man early this morning, even if he didn't know what the Major General was looking for in those reports yet.

But first… He stepped up to the coffee cart near the front entrance to Central Command and ordered two coffees. Taking a sip of his own, he realized how bitter his cup was, and decided his mouth would thank him to not drink the dark brew.

Then, he waited.

"Good morning, Gladys," Roy called out to the petite secretary coming down the lane ten minutes later. "How are you this morning?" He asked casually as he matched the brunette's rushed pace.

"Oh! G-Good morning, Brigadier General," a pleasant voice replied with only a slight blush. "I- I'm fine, and you?"

"I'm well. Would you like a coffee?" Roy offered her a cup. "I thought I might catch you, seeing as I'll be visiting your office a little later."

"How thoughtful," she smiled sincerely as she took the offered beverage, "thank you. Are you ready for it? Seems rather early to be talking State business. I don't know how you generals do it."

"We do the best we can," he intoned as he smiled at her disarmingly.

"Well, don't think badly of me this morning. I-I'm just not an early riser," she yawned before she took a warm drink. "Seems the Major General likes to schedule the most pressing foreign affairs meetings before I can get my brain into gear, but I guess he has to with the time differences."

"Does he do this sort of thing to you often?" Roy asked innocently as he brought the coffee to his lips without taking a draw.

"Oh, no, it's fine," she waved it off.

"Are you sure? You can tell me. You seem to be a little more frazzled than usual," Roy asked genuinely.

"Oh, uh…" she blushed under his steady gaze and looked away. "T-Thank you, Brigadier General. I-I'm ok, really, but it's sweet that you're concerned, even though I know you're buttering me up…"

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to…"

"No, no. I-I like it," she reddened. "I-It's usually not this bad though, but it does seem to be happening more often lately," she admitted, hiding in her auburn hair while taking another appreciative sip. "How's your Xingese, Brigadier General? We might need a translator later, but I haven't been able to find anyone capable enough to meet the Major General's standards," she sighed dejectedly. "He's dismissed each of them after only one meeting! I can barely order from a Xingese menu much less judge proficiency," she confided, embarrassed.

"I'm sure you are doing a fine job," He sidestepped the question. "Maybe the Major General can step in as translator, if need be," Roy offered as they passed through security.

"Hah!" she laughed darkly, a strange edge to her usual bubbly personality. "He's just as bad as I am, so I don't know why he's turned away the three translators I found for him on proficiency grounds. I-I wonder how he knows if they are fluent or not," she mused out loud. "Oh, well, thanks for the coffee and listening to me prattle on. See you later."

"Thank you, Gladys; you brightened my morning. A pleasure, as always," he complemented and she blushed. "I'll see you soon."

Roy watched her turn up the stairs before he made his way to his office, tossing his poor excuse for coffee into the trash. So… she recognized his overtures weren't 100% genuine, but was happy to accept his attentions. He smirked to himself. Although this was just a game, even his pawns were willing to help him win. He found comfort in that fact. He wasn't a complete scoundrel after all.

"Good morning, sir," Hawkeye said as he entered his domain a short while later. She was the only one in the office, and she handed him a cup of the good stuff along with a pastry.

"Thank you, Captain," Roy replied, glad to have a decent cup. The coffee cart's brew was always too bitter for his tastes, but it had served its purpose. He was glad to have Hawkeye with him, and not just for the coffee.

"Sir, your meeting is in 20 minutes. The general has refused to discuss the details with me," she said with irritation bleeding into her stern voice.

"It's alright, Captain," he chuckled without any humor, taking a bite of his breakfast. Hakuro must have been being an ass again if she was this riled up this early. "Gladys was kind enough to tip me off this morning about a large Xingese delegation coming to Central," he said. He blew on his coffee before taking a large drink of the rich beverage, sighing at the delicious taste.

"Sir? She told you that? Wouldn't that be classified?" She raised her disbelieving, yet impressed, eyebrow at him.

"Well, she indicated that Hakuro was having frequent, early morning foreign affairs meetings. The time difference between countries and the fact that he is requiring Xingese translators can only mean that he is in talks with Xing. In fact, Hakuro dismissed each interpreter after only one meeting, indicating that he doesn't want any one person to know everything being discussed during these conferences.

"Since Gladys also said that the frequency of them is increasing, it stands to reason that talks have picked up. However, as you and I know, Emperor Li is still consolidating power after his bloody ascension. Therefore, he and Hakuro are probably not discussing aggressive action, which only leaves diplomatic alternatives," Roy concluded before taking another bite of pastry followed by a long drag of refreshing coffee.

"So you think that a delegation is being sent to Amestris from Xing?" Hawkeye now followed his logic.

"If they're not already on their way. Seems the most likely option, and if Hakuro wants to keep it secret, then it'll probably be a large party, have an important figure, or both. Since we're Internal Security, we'll probably be in charge of protecting the Xingese Embassy and delegation while they're here in Central.

"Let the team know as they come in and delegate relevant tasks. Supervise and coordinate. Put Havoc on security, Breda on publicity, Fuery on coms, and Falman on the ground. I suspect Hakuro wants to see us scrambling in front of the rest of the brass," Roy said flatly before eating a mouthful of flaky goodness and washing it down with his reviving drink. Even though Roy was pissed that Hakuro was trying to make him and his men look incompetent, he smirked for Hawkeye's benefit.

Of course, she saw right through it, but he was sure she appreciated his efforts. His oldest friend knew him all too well from the days of his apprenticeship under her father. Her knowing smirk reminded him that he couldn't pull one over on her, even back when they were teens together.

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye confirmed, making a few new notes on her ever present pad and throwing out the day's to-do list she had made just before her general had arrived.

'Begin clearing Xingese Embassy, assign teams, and research Xingese customs,' she scrawled in her elegant short hand.

"Also, please remind me to send Gladys a small bouquet later from Gracia's shop. Make them daisies," Roy added as he walked back towards the entrance he had just come through, finishing off his coffee and setting the cup on a desk.

"Sir, is it wise to identify your informant in front of the Major General?" his number two cautioned.

"Good point; postpone it a few days," he acknowledged, nodding at her acumen. "Oh, and put in some time for me to call Sheska," he added nonchalantly, popping the last bite of pastry into his mouth. He needed to make some discrete inquiries about where to start looking for trans-dimensional dream sharing, if any existed in the first place.

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye said as she made the two additional notes. She curiously glanced at him.

He knew she wanted to know, but he wasn't sure if he would tell her what the latter request was about, even if he puzzled out the mystery. It felt too personal a thing to share. So, with orders given, he left Hawkeye to run the office in his stead.

He strode to the stairway. Hakuro's office was on the fifth floor, so he'd have to climb two stories. He arrived just in time to hear Gladys' intercom go off.

"…And tell that Mustang he can come in as soon as he gets here," came the gleefully malicious voice.

Gladys looked up to see him smile at her and nod. She gave him her 'I'm sorry' smile, and watched him step up to the door. It looked like she was glad he was so self-assured. He was going to need every ounce of confidence he had if he'd read Hakuro's cheer right.

Roy knocked then stepped into his superior's inner sanctum, closing the doors behind him before turning to salute.

"Good morning, Major General, sir."

"Sit down Mustang, we have a call to make," Hakuro said, not acknowledging Roy's salute.

"Good morning, Major Bristol," Roy greeted the translator from Intelligence. He was highly recommended by Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong on the few missions that required joint departmental action. Good; Roy was glad to see a competent soldier in this meeting and not another lackey Hakuro could shove around.

"Sir," Bristol saluted back with a friendly bob. The tall man's dirty blond hair was cut close to his circular head giving the illusion that he was 10 years younger.

"You too, Bristol," Hakuro barked, losing some of his arrogant superiority.

Roy smiled and waved the man off, sitting in the seat Hakuro pointed at as the Major General frowned. Bristol sat next to Roy after a similar gesture from the man behind the desk. Obviously Hakuro didn't like that Roy knew Bristol's name. Either that or Hakuro didn't like that, if Roy knew the man's name, he probably knew the man's occupation, too. Whichever it was, it made Hakuro hate Roy a little more.

Hakuro depressed the phone toggle for the speaker line and was connected to Gladys. "Put the call through to Xing," he said sneering at Roy.


	14. Chapter 14

***My Favorite Wine***

 

 

 

Riza was a sniper. There was no changing that; it didn’t matter that she no longer lay in wait under cover with her riffle, Ishval’s sand beneath her. She was the Hawk’s Eye. She was no stranger to conflict.

Her world view was simple. Some might call it heartless or cold, but those who knew her understood her soft smile was honest against the bitter truth of her necessary objectivity. As a sharp shooter, she knew that emotions could get your allies, your team, killed.

She had come to this place, in the silence of late night, to regain the emotional distance of perspective. It was the only way to see things clearly. It was the only way she would be of any use to her country, to her general.

Captain Hawkeye was well aware that her clear headed reasoning and impartial perception gave her general an edge in the gamble to lead Amestris out of the shadow of a tyrant and into an enlightened future. What she lacked in strategic thought, she made up for with her fierce loyalty, deductive reasoning, and her ability to anticipate.

Dry, hot air blew past Riza’s face as she sat atop the highest building overlooking the vast Eastern Desert on one side and the colorful town on the other. Lior was hot this time of year, and not only during the day; at night, the temperature seemed to merely drop a degree or two. She was glad she’d been transferred back to Central and away from the Eastern Area’s dramatic climate, although tonight, the arid heat seemed appropriate.

She stood above the edge of town, turning to face a boundless, open desert to the east. After the excitement of the evening, she needed to get some perspective. She had settled her brigadier general, their team, and the Xingese delegation into their rooms after their eventful first day.

Below her perch, multicolored banners still fluttered in the ineffectual breeze high above the streets and windows of the quiet town. She surveyed the main square where the team had stood at sharp attention to greet the visiting envoys earlier in the dry, oppressive heat of summer.

She was extremely proud of her general’s unit. They had pushed themselves to secure the Xingese Embassy in Central and all of Lior while also preparing for the 30-person delegation with only two weeks to plan and execute their maneuvers. It had been done well, even if rushed.

A hot waft of air brushed the beads of sweat running down her scared, tattooed back. She began to flap her uniform’s jacket collar to cool herself, shaking her head in residual annoyance.

How was she supposed to do her job if Major General Hakuro was withholding information?

She still couldn’t believe it. It was true that the major general was not Brigadier General Mustang’s biggest fan, but to stoop to almost embarrassing the nation just to make him look bad?

She gritted her teeth at the audacity, then slowly released her pent-up frustration with her general’s commander. It had been hard work, but they had secured the personnel and developed a good plan for protecting the ambassadors in time.

What did the major general think he was going to gain by having unsafe dignitaries besides making Brigadier General Mustang look incompetent?

But that was just it. The major general had intended to ensure that her general and his team were embarrassed by being ill prepared to receive and protect foreign dignitaries. In fact, Major General Hakuro had only notified them after the Xingese were already half way to Amestris for an open ended diplomatic visit. That had only given them two weeks to do three months’ worth of work.

The major general was in charge of the State Department, but he would wait in Central to receive the Xingese envoys there. It was obvious to Riza that he was hoping Mustang and his team would fumble in front of the delegation so that he would come out smelling like a rose in comparison. She shook off the vestiges of irritation.

She knew her general had other plans, though. He had no intention in humiliating himself, his team, or his country, so he had set them all to work with the sight below her as a result. Banners of welcome, both in Amestrian Green and Xingese Red, waved over the broad sandstone aisles covered in confetti led to the inn they were staying at.

Riza smiled contentedly to herself at the well-organized fan fair. It was days like today that she was proud of him and proud to serve under him.

Brigadier General Mustang had outdone himself in the pomp and circumstance he had mustered in the remote desert town. It was neither too little nor too much. His welcome speech had shown his charismatic nature and his statesmanship. He had excelled even during dinner with the two ambassadors. She nodded sagely to herself, thinking back over the meal in which he had fascinated their international guests with his smooth handling of the trip’s first assassination attempt.

The two ambassadors, Prince Ling Yao and Princess May Chang, respectively code named Dragon and Lotus, were both half siblings of the new Xingese leader, Emperor Li. While standing stiffly at attention in line with their men, Riza had taken in their appearances. Both of them had long black hair over rounded yellow tinted faces with black eyes. Lotus had worn hers up in two braided buns on her head while her half-brother had had his tied with a strap of white fabric at the nape of his neck.

His formal yet casual attire had reinforced their preconceptions of him. Intelligence had briefed the team that Prince Ling was a prominent proponent for the people, and the people in turn supported him. It was assumed this was why he had been sent here in the first place. He was the only true political rival to the emperor left.

Riza leaned against the sandstone façade on the roof, looking over her shoulder at the silver dunes, and considered the Xingese ruler beyond the sand. Emperor Li was said to be a cunning and violent man, rumored to have killed their father in his bid to become the next monarch of Xing. If that was true, then Emperor Li was smart to send Prince Ling away from Xing while he concentrated his power and support.

If Prince Ling Yao died in Xing, the masses would revolt against Emperor Li and another of the recently deceased emperor’s children would ascend the throne. It would probably be a weaker half sibling whom had survived Li’s bloody massacre that had befallen 37 of the 50 children of the old emperor (one child representing each of the 50 clans), destabilizing the whole region.

However, if Prince Ling died in a foreign country, like Amestris for example, he would be a martyr for the ‘Pride of Xing,’ serving her people, and his death would give the new emperor an excuse to retaliate, uniting his country behind him.

Yes, Emperor Li was a clever man indeed.

She bit her tongue at the thought of a powerful and ruthless political opponent on the international stage and imagined the possible issues that may arise, but she was no tactician. That was her general’s job, and her oldest friend was a skilled man.

Brigadier General Mustang had told them all to expect assassins from Xing during the prince’s stay in Amestris, making Dragon’s safety their number one priority. However, they never expected one of the prince’s own party to try and kill him during their first State dinner.

It had been a subtle attempt; she could give the emperor that much at least, she mused, turning her attention back to the muted rainbow trail of paper littering the inn’s entrance. While her general and Dragon had been laughing good-naturedly over Breda’s failed attempts to use chopsticks, one of the prince’s servants had poured him a drink from a carafe that had been used only for him. Not even Princess May had been given a sip.

“Prince Ling,” her general had asked His Royal Highness before anyone had thought anything of it, “may I be so bold as to smell such a fascinating drink, fit only to serve the prince on such an auspicious occasion?”

The room had stilled and the man with the beverage had all eyes bouncing between himself, her general, and the prince. The interpreter had spoken quickly in Prince Ling’s ear. When the royal envoy had smiled knowingly, he had nodded his consent.

“I would be delighted for you to scent the cocktail sent by my beloved brother,” Dragon had conveyed through the translator.

Riza had felt a hidden meaning in their exchange, but had watched behind an emotionless face, while sliding her hand to the butt of her sidearm.

Prince Ling had given the signal for the man to allow the general a whiff, and the servant’s face had paled noticeably, but had made his way with shaky hands. When the ashen man came to her general, her oldest friend had waved a gloved hand over the brim and had smelled it as if inhaling the bouquet of a fine wine.

“Oh, my,” he had feigned exaggerated distaste and had made eye contact with Prince Ling, “Your Highness, it seems your drink has spoiled on your long journey. Perhaps you would like a taste of an Amestrian wine instead? This Riesling, my personal favorite, pairs well with subtle and complex Xingese flavors.”

At the time, Riza had fought to not roll her eyes at his almost over the top extension of unofficial Amestrian aid. It would not have done to let her close personal relationship with him cloud her sharp reflexes or disturb the possibility of a fruitful alliance.

After hearing the deciphered sentiment through his aid, Dragon had raised his poisoned glass to the masked bodyguard who had stepped up to his goldenrod covered shoulders.

“Please help dispose of the unfortunate change in my favorite wine. It has turned to vinegar,” his assistant had translated for Riza’s general. “I would love to try your Amestrian Riesling. I have heard it is a respectable and fair blend. Thank you.”

And that had been that. The guard had escorted the shaking would-be assassin out with the tainted wine. The rest of the crowd had begun talking again, but the general and prince had come to an understanding. Or at least Riza hoped they had. The princess had just watched them with what Riza had thought was genuine surprise on her round face.

As for Lotus, May Chang was an unknown element. The original company had not included her. Intelligence had said she was from one of the poorer clans of Xing, but her interest and apparent skill in alkehestry, the Xingese form of medical alchemy, had gained her notoriety. She had asked to come here to study alchemy at Central University. Since it meant one less sibling to worry about, they were sure Emperor Li was only too happy to oblige her.

Riza sighed, straightening to her full height. She knew there would be many more attempts on Dragon, but for tonight he was safe. They all were. She sighed again, taking one last long look over the lonely silver sea of sand.

Riza was a sniper. There was no changing that; in this stifling desert, with her cool head and wits about her once again, she felt the serenity of calm objectivity resettle in her soul. She was the Hawk’s Eye, after all. She was going to make sure that their mission succeeded: moving the country forward into a peaceful and prosperous future.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this is so late. I am currently preparing to move from California to North Dakota for graduate school and am super busy. On top of that, I got food poisoning this weekend! =( Anyways. Since I'm late posting this chapter, I decided to post two to make up for it. Enjoy!

***Three Things in Common***

Central, Amestris, November 1918

Munich, Germany, November 1924

Over the next six months, as their schedules allowed, Roy and Prince Ling had begun to build what each hoped would be a beneficial diplomatic relationship. When the envoy had been safely delivered to the Xingese Embassy in Central without another assassination attempt, they had all been greeted by a gaudy display from Major General Hakuro's office.

Führer Grumman had come to welcome the delegation, but he and the royal siblings had seemed as bemused by the over the top ceremony as Roy had been. Dragon and Lotus had dressed in a pair of matching outfits, bold and strong red silks with gold patterns sewn into the fine fabric over yellow toned skin with their long black hair tied back.

Prince Ling had worn an open chested red coat with elegant goldenrod embroidery over the shoulder while May Chang had been clad in a long banner like dress, called a qipao, which had been the same vivacious red with golden chrysanthemums emblazoned upon it that only the royal blood line was allowed to wear. Of course Roy and all accompanying officers had met the production in formal blue dress uniforms.

Roy had been gaining ground with the ambassadors on the trip to Central, but was conspicuously replaced in an official capacity at events with Hakuro's men once in the capital. It was true that he was not in charge of diplomatic matters, only Interior and delegation security, but since that first night, Roy and Ling had seemed to be speaking the same figurative language while Hakuro had been left scratching his literal head.

It had been well reported before the delegation had even arrived in Central that the Xingese prince had escaped an assassin through the help of the Flame Alchemist, a gift from Breda. Roy couldn't help the praise when they had made it to the capital, but Hakuro had been fuming.

It was a shame the Major General had not gone to meet the delegation himself. Then he would have gotten the applause and thanks for saving the Xingese prince from a bad glass of wine. Instead he had put on an ostentatious show for the envoys and the press.

It had laughably backfired on him, though. The press only had printed or talked about one of two stories: 'Flame Alchemist saves Xingese Prince from Assassination' or 'Extravagance at the Xingese Reception.' Hakuro had not been happy with either.

Now if Roy could figure out a way to get Hakuro to slip why he was so upset a man under his command had done a fine job, that would be a real feat. Roy had to be missing something.

As it was, since the botched assassination had become public knowledge, the Xingese Embassy had made it a point to invite Roy to all official events, dinners, and parties. Of course he had attended these Xingese Embassy functions as a personal guest of the royal siblings. The general had made the best of these occasions, bringing along a new date every time, usually someone's talkative secretary or pissed off mistress.

The cream of society, military brass, and Civilian Assembly all vied for invitations. Soon, the Embassy parties were the talk of the town, and the only people worth talking about were those who attended. Roy took full advantage of these social gatherings, meeting with, strengthening, and extending his information network. He flirted with gilded celebrities, joked with relaxing officers, and gaged the motives of the Civilian Assembly Chairman as well as the other current cohort members of the non-military government bureaucrats.

During the first few occasions, Roy had found it all dull, except when Dragon would go out of his way to stop and have a word or two with him. These brief interactions had been in the same metaphorical language each had found the other to be fluent.

Initially, Roy had been unsure how trustworthy his new acquaintance was, but it had seemed like Prince Ling was dropping hints about what his men had heard Hakuro's subordinates saying. Their acquaintance had grown stronger as Roy tested these bits of information to see how accurate or reliable they were. (They were VERY accurate and reliable.) In exchange, Roy had wondered what the cost of it would be. What was Prince Ling after?

Soon enough, Roy had been invited to have a private tea with the prince at the Embassy. Before attending, he'd had to make sure that none of his actions could be skewed to show any disloyalty to or treason against Amestris. Clearing the meeting with Grumman's blessing, here he stood with his most trusted adjunct.

"It is with great honor that the House of Reason invites Brigadier General Roy Mustang and Captain Riza Hawkeye for tea this Sunday at 2 PM," Roy read aloud to himself as the two named stepped to the door of the, by now, familiar Xingese Embassy.

"I hate to say it, sir, but there was no way to decline and keep whatever relationship you have developed with the price," she said, tilting her head slightly enough that only Roy would take it as the challenge to face the unknown that it was.

Making eye contact, they nodded in agreement. Taking a breath, Roy pulled the braided silk cord along the outer wall that was attached to an inner bell, letting their presence be known.

He needed to know who he was dealing with.

Over the past six months, he had seen multiple sides of Prince Ling. Dragon was crafty, but fair; he worried about his people and his country. Roy could tell that the young royal would do whatever it took to take care of them. He was also pretty sure that the ambassador spoke Amestrian, even though the prince still spoke through a translator; his replies were always a split second too fast.

Just then, the elaborately decorated door swung inward and a familiar figure bowed to them.

"Welcome to the Xingese Embassy, Brigadier General Mustang, Captain Hawkeye," came the voice of the translator, a slim but fit woman in her early 20's. She stood and smiled at them.

"Hello and good afternoon, Yecheng," Roy replied pleasantly as both he and Hawkeye bowed politely but not as low. Hawkeye had drilled him and the men in any Xingese customs she could find references for, and Roy was glad she had. It was another reason she was so invaluable an adjunct; she could anticipate him, figuring out what he would need to know before he asked.

"This way please," the young beauty voiced leading them to an outdoor patio area overlooking a koi pond. Then she left them, motioning for them to continue on into the garden. Prince Ling was already there with an unmasked Lan Fan who was pouring his tea.

"Ah! General, Captain, it is good to see you again, my friends," the prince called in Amestrian with barely a hint of an accent. "Please, come sit."

"It is nice to hear your voice, your highness," Roy uttered in disbelief, though he hid it behind his pleasant mask as he and Hawkeye sat at the circular table as directed by their host. It was one thing to speculate that the sly royal spoke Amestrian, but to have the charade fall without preamble, was another.

"Ah, yes, well, it is much better talking to you like this, no? Much less taxing," he chimed. "Plus, we have the added layer of clarity."

"That is true, your highness," Roy stated noncommittally. "If I can be frank?"

"Why of course, and drop the formality while you are here. Call me Ling. We are friends, are we not?" Ling asked delighted as he took up his tea cup and hid his mouth with it, a trick Roy knew well.

"Ling, then," Roy obliged. "Why all the games? What is it you would like from us?"

"Well, that all depends on you, General. Did you check out my information?" Ling solicited the pair before taking another sip of jasmine green tea.

"Of course, your highness," Hawkeye said as she took up the tea poured for her by Lan Fan. In fact, it had been invaluable in stopping the Major General from using Bradley era communications as evidence of Roy's involvement in the disappearance of the old Führer.

"Call me Ling, Riza, or do you prefer Hawkeye?" Dragon inclined his head in a friendly acknowledgement of equals.

"Hawkeye will be fine," she toned, and Roy knew she did not like how familiar he was being with her.

"Very well. Hawkeye, then. Roy, may I call you Roy?" Mustang nodded before the relaxed man in front of him continued. "The reason I came to this country is simple, and I am sure you have guessed since our first meeting: my brother, the emperor, wants me dead."

Roy and Hawkeye nodded solemnly.

"Since my arrival here, there have been three attempts made on my life. The first you were clever enough to notice before my guards." Lan Fan lowered her head in acknowledgement of her failure, but Ling could not see the woman's pose behind him and kept talking. "The other two I have made you aware of, but have handled them 'in house,' as you say.

"In regards to my information, it is clear that you are a capable man with a reliable team," Ling said placing both hands in his sleeves across his chest as he nodded to Hawkeye. "I had heard many stories about the famous Flame Alchemist, even in Xing. Most of which seemed exaggerated hearsay until I met you, although fighting off invading airships from an unknown country does stretch believability."

"I do not see where you are going with all this, Ling," Roy said nonchalantly, keeping a stone face as he sipped his tea.

"Ha! The infamous Mustang Mask! So, it must be true then!" He sung turning to Lan Fan with an 'I told you so' smile. "Well, then Roy," Ling resumed his focus on Roy, "you and I have three things in common: We do not want Hakuro running Amestris, we do not want Li in charge of Xing, and we each want to lead our respective countries in order to serve the people."


	16. Chapter 16

***What's it Matter Now?***

Central, Amestris, November 1918

Munich, Germany, November 1924

"And that should do it, Al," Ed crowed. He pushed up out of his chair to stand, rubbing his lower back.

"Do you think this will really work, Brother? Could we really be free of it?" Al asked with hope in his voice.

They had been pouring over the contents of Huskisson's notebooks and those additional tomes from his team. It had become obvious that the fuck-head had gotten sick and died from exposure to the Uranium he had been studying along with his underlings. In fact, his notes indicated that he had begun to look for ways to neutralize the element he'd named that had plagued him.

Ed and Al had spent the last six months in hiding in Munich with a bomb they kept buried in a ceramic box, a parting gift from Kai. Their Chinese allies had kept their word; they had not told Hess where they were. In fact, their arrangement had unexpected benefits.

Before having to return to China a month ago, besides trying to sleep with Ed, Kai had also been teaching him the finer points of nuance, withholding information credibly, and how to give circumspect answers. Ed knew that if they were ever caught, these skills would only ever protect Al, so he had spent whatever time he wasn't working on the bomb or talking with his brother on these lessons.

Kai had also found them a ceramic box, like the one Ed had suggested would protect them from harmful radiation. The ceramic contained naturally occurring uranium, a well-studied element on this side of the gate. It was commonly added during the kiln process, and it actually provided some defense against the radiation coming off of the enriched uranium in the bomb. They had buried it in the basement of an abandoned building when not actually working with it. Although it meant risk of discovery, all parties agreed it was better than risk of exposure.

Whenever they did need to check something on the actual bomb, they worked on site. Ed made sure that they wore masks to prevent them from inhaling additional radioactive particles. The alpha rays were not strong enough to permeate their skin, though, so Ed reasoned that they just had to wash really well after handling the bomb and change clothes, including their gloves. It was the best they could do.

Through Fritz, they had learned that their stealthy theft of the research notes and bomb had left the Thule Society in an uproar. This was especially true for an enraged Lieutenant Hess. The leader of Thule was gaining influence with Hitler, who, according to rumor, was being treated like a king in prison right here in Munich, and that could not be good for Ed, Al, or their allies.

While Hess was a man who wished the best for his country, Ed thought he was a superstitious jackass with too much fucking testosterone. His continued search for the missing auction items meant that the Elrics and Kai's group had to keep their heads low and watch out for him at all times, especially when working on the bomb. Hess had correctly deduced that Edward Elric was the thief; however, Ed was just glad Hess thought he was working alone.

The domineering military man had come looking for him at Gracia's shop where the Lieutenant knew Ed had last been living, but Officer Hughes had covered for the brothers. In fact, Hughes had hidden the existence of Al altogether. Ed missed his dead Amestrian father figure, Brigadier General Hughes, so he was glad to have Officer Hughes as an ally here in Germany.

Speaking of supporters, over the last year or so Ed had been working odd jobs for Fritz, doing research for the director's movies, so the brothers had been able to afford staying out of sight in dodgy hotels trying to decipher Huskisson's notes and how to safely reverse engineer the deadly device without alchemy.

Fuck, he missed his alchemy. If he'd had it, this bullshit would have been over with the clap of his hands, but today, he thought they had done it.

Now Ed beamed at his brother, still intrigued to see a much younger boy of 14 than the one he knew was mentally 18. It was amazing to think that Al was stuck in a body that was four years younger than the mind within, but he was ecstatic to know that Al was soft and squishy once more with all of his memories intact.

"Yeah, Al, I think we did it," Ed repeated looking up from his pocket sized notebook. Ed's smile was nearly too big for his face, and he could feel his facial muscles straining with the tension of grinning so broadly. He guessed he hadn't been smiling enough recently.

It was no wonder, really, that he hadn't had cause to do so lately. After they had gone into hiding, it had been demanding being so confined. When Ed wasn't studying under Kai, the brothers often spent their time either telling each other about their time apart. Ed had studied rocketry and lived with their father; Al had apprenticed under Teacher again and been searching for him. They either did that or discussed how to disarm and destroy a bomb.

Ed noticed a rift was beginning to form between himself and Al, though, and was at a loss for how to stop it. After hearing about the day to day life Al had missed out on with their father, he had begun to feel slighted. His younger brother felt Ed had squandered his time with their father. Al was also upset that he would never get to know the man who had left them.

After Ed had described the past two years with Hohenheim and how it had ended, Al had realized the truth. Not only had their father used his own life to get Ed home, he had already been dying, and Ed had left him to study rocketry until he'd disappeared. Al still wouldn't admit to being jealous of Ed's time with Hohenheim, but he was angry that Ed hadn't taken the chance, like Al would have, to get to know their father better.

How the hell was Ed supposed to change any of that now?

At the moment, Al also stood from their scribbles and calculations, walking away from the small table covered in piles of books, papers, and scientific instruments in the middle of the room to stretch. Pulling out his pocket watch, Ed noted they had been working for… 28 straight hours. Damn, but neither brother had wanted to stop while they were on the cusp of working out the finer details of the disarming protocol, and it had paid off.

Ed plopped back down on his bed and exhaled.

They had finally done it.

He began to feel the weight of his body and began to drift off. The bright sun light shone over Ed's eyes, and he moved his arm to protect them from the noonday sun.

"It's nice to see you again, Fullmetal," came a smug voice that sent tingles down Ed's spine. He sat straight up in the recognizable leather couch and turned to the man in blue behind a large wooden desk. Ed took a deep breath.

It had been months since he'd had one of these dreams. He had nearly convinced himself that the last time he had dreamed about a shared vision of the General it was just that, a dream. He had no evidence to the contrary, but he knew it all the same. Actually, he had tried to dream of this enigmatic man every night for weeks after that almost kiss, but to no avail. Now that he was back in this room, he was sure it wasn't just in his head. This was something real.

And he had told Mustang to kiss him!

He had fixated on that little detail until Al had started to wonder if he was having some sort of mental break. Of course he hadn't told Al what he had been dreaming about, but his brother knew him well enough to know that Ed was fretting about something.

Now back in this washed out room, he knew he was not the only mind here.

"General," Ed replied noncommittally not meeting Mustang's gaze, hoping that his very real CO would not remember or at least not bring up his last unrequited request.

"Seems we have some things to discuss, Fullmetal. Why don't you start?" dictated the roguish brunet.

"Well…" Ed stalled trying to calm his nerves. "I think we did it. 'Course if we'd had alchemy it wouldn't have taken this long, just a clap, but whatever. Decryption of the schematics was a bitch, but we figured out how that damn thing works. But better than that, we finally cracked how to disarm and safely disassemble it!" Ed was so happy to see Mustang straighten when he said 'disarm.'

'Finally, that bastard is paying attention!' Ed crowed in his head. After realizing that what he thought was his subconscious talking to him was incredibly Brigadier General Mustang's mentality, Ed had been even more pissed that the man in his dreams had not responded to the threat the bomb posed. Now the bastard was responding appropriately!

"What do you need to 'disarm,' Fullmetal? You better start from the beginning, and I know it's hard, but give your report in chronological order this time," Mustang smirked at the jibe.

Ed rolled his eyes, but inwardly acknowledged that his reports had always been difficult to follow. He had also taken a perverse satisfaction that Mustang would have had to secretly use a linear timeline cheat sheet to follow him; it was probably another reason he had given his reports in non-chronological order.

However, now was not the time to stick it to his CO; he didn't know how long this dream connection would last. He had figured that if these were really trans-dimensional consciousness sharing ties, then the only way it was possible was if the bastard had bled on Al's portal opening array. It was the only explanation. Ed had bled on the German one, so Mustang must have bled on the Amestrian one before closing the doorway. Besides that, there was no other way that Ed could see him talking to his CO now. The only thing left to figure out was what parameters and conditions must be met to enter the dream space.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Ed said irritated that Mustang was taking the lead, but he was glad that they were avoiding other, more personal, topics. "So remember that jackass Huskisson? The one who wanted me to present his research to the state?"

-8-

A calm relief swept through Roy as their familiar pattern fell into place. He had anxiously planned to discuss their earlier encounter and try to figure out how they were able to reach this place together, but the jolt that went up his spine at the mention of needing to 'disarm' something dictated a change in topic.

"That description fits quite a few assignments, Fullmetal," Roy said as if bored, trying to get his missing agent to speed this report along. There was no way to tell how much time they had to get this report across. While he had tried for weeks to reopen this dreamscape, it had evaded all his efforts.

Roy considered where Fullmetal started his story. He knew there were a lot of deranged fools who had wanted the state to recognize their crazy theories, most of which were utter garbage. In the past, it had been a personal game to see how many crackpots Roy could have Fullmetal defuse/investigate before the kid would refuse, complaining about the nuisance. It had been about three in a row, but Fullmetal would always go see if it might help him restore his brother, so it was a game they had played often.

"Well, I think I was 15 at the time," the blond began as he sank back into Roy's couch. "You sent me to the southwest to look up that kook. He had taken over an island mine whose workers had disappeared. He kept ranting and raving about his brilliant scientific prowess…" Fullmetal waited to see Roy's recognition before he continued, laying down to recount his tale.

Roy watched bound liquid amber hair cascade down over the edge of the couch's arm. He linked his itching hands and rested his elbows on his desk. He should not want to run his fingers through those luminescent locks; he needed to pay attention.

"So Al and I went to poke around," the young man continued, oblivious. "While Al got the spiel, I made some adjustments to his steam tanks." Fullmetal's smirk was evident in his voice. "After he tried to kill us, he attempted to transmute himself and the dead workers into walking weapons. We thought the attempt had cost him his life, but I found out when I got here that the jackass had been on this side of the gate ever since. Of course, he's dead now. Poisoned by his own weapon," smooth waves of golden hair swayed as he shook his head in disgust at human stupidity.

"What weapon, Fullmetal?" Roy was getting impatient now.

-8-

"Oh, right. A uranium bomb," Ed replied absently while Mustang inhaled sharply. "Huskisson ended up bringing it with him here. Must have since he was holding it when he crossed over…" Ed trailed off as he thought about the implications of that statement. Hadn't it been the same for him when he went through the gate with that biplane a year ago? Whatever you had on you went with you…

"Way to bury the lead, Fullmetal," Mustang said flatly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever. Well, that's what Al and I have been after ever since we closed the gate, and today, we cracked how to destroy it. I told you last time that I thought we'd found it. Remember?" Quickly, Ed stiffened at the reminder of the last time they had talked and the kiss that never happened. Ed blushed, but was glad he was facing the ceiling above the blank door and not Mustang.

"You can destroy it, then?" Mustang pressed, obviously needing to know that other weapons were not going to be unleased upon Amestris. Central was probably still reeling from the invasion.

"Isn't that what I said? Damn, Mustang, I didn't realize you were such an old man. You should get your ears checked," Ed chuckled as he turned to look over the couch arm at the General sitting with his hands folded in front of his face. When their eyes met, a jolt of electricity slammed up Ed's spine. He couldn't move as he felt himself sinking into the dark pool of Mustang's good eye.

-8-

"You're sure?" Roy demanded, avoiding the jabs as he considered the beautiful blond laying on his couch. Pursing his lips behind his hands, he tried to concentrate on the topic at hand, but his mouth wanted to taste those plump pink lips.

-8-

"Uh-huh," Ed replied, transfixed by the movement of Mustang's eye to his mouth. He couldn't move, but his stomach was doing somersaults. The oppressive air in the room was filled with untapped energy, and it pulsed around him ready to spark.

"Good. Then we shouldn't run into any more trouble, especially while our guests are still here," Mustang nodded to himself slowly through the heavy air.

"Guests?" That broke Ed's fog. Obviously, the political situation in Amestris was not quiet; it was ever evolving, 'a living tapestry of hidden agendas and vailed plots,' as Kai would say.

"Yes, the Amestrian government is playing host to the political rival of the new Xingese Emperor, his younger brother. Assassination attempts are becoming the norm," Mustang explained banally. "That's all we'd need: another invasion with the Xingese heir in town," his CO added with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Isn't that Hakuro's job?" Ed asked confused. Foreign affairs were never really of interest until recently, thanks to Kai's tutelage.

"Security for the delegation falls under Internal Security's purview," Mustang clarified for him.

"Huh. So what, is Hakuro pissed they keep trying to kill the diplomats?" Ed asked amused, thinking of the indignant Major General's face. He had seen it enough during his military career. In fact, that fucker had given Ed a hard time ever since he realized that his life had been saved from a terrorist group by a kid way back when.

"Actually, it's quite the opposite. Anytime there is a new attempt, he seems more annoyed that the Ambassador is still alive," Mustang said, but his irritation at that mystery bled out from behind a sardonic smirk.

"Huh? Why would he want the ambassador dead? Unless he wants a war with Xing," Ed said as he considered the Major General. "Seems like Hakuro is just acting like the jackass he is. You know how many times that blowhard gave me shit for doing my job? I mean, at first he's all, 'Thanks, kid for saving my life. Let me nominate you for the State Alchemist's Exam.' Then once I passed, he wanted to disavow any connection with me, saying I 'embarrass and dishonor' the watch and his position. What a jackass!"

-8-

"I wasn't aware that he said any of that to you," Roy replied then pursed his hidden lips.

Damn Hakuro. Fullmetal had been one of their best operatives, even if he did cause a lot of property damage. More often than not, Fullmetal had taken the time after a mission to repair what he broke, even if it wasn't everything that was damaged. It was ridiculous that the Major General had accosted the kid to give him hell over it.

"Yeah, well, he cornered me a few times. Used to shove me up against the wall if we were ever in a disserted hallway at HQ. I told him if he didn't like it, he could do the work himself," Fullmetal laughed to himself, and Roy could just see him remembering the apoplectic responses. "Fucking asshole."

"You're lucky he didn't court martial you, Fullmetal," Roy toned seriously, now understanding that he had not shielded the young teen as well as he'd thought. No wonder Hakuro hated them both.

-8-

"Na. He wouldn't've," Ed waved his hand. "Not with the cards I had up my sleeve," he sneered, shaking his head as he remembered the other, less appropriate, advances the Major General and others had made. Thankfully, Ed had successfully warded them off.

It wasn't just Hakuro; some of the other Brass members seemed to think Ed was willing to trade favors, even sexual ones, for favorable treatment. It was an old rumor. One that had confused him when he had first joined up, but that Ed ignored unless someone tried to make something more tangible of it.

Mustang just raised an eyebrow at him as he sprawled out over the cushions. Ed figured his CO had heard the rumors that surrounded him. It was a military base after all, and gossip usually spread like wildfire.

"What?" Ed asked taking in Mustang's waiting facial expression. "It's not like I was blackmailing them or anything."

-8-

Roy just kept his stare and questioning eyebrow raised. 'Them?' The plural struck Roy as if it made a physical jolt.

"Damn it, Mustang. What?" Fullmetal demanded into the expectant silence.

"Did it ever occur to you that you could have reported 'them,' whoever they were?" Roy asked, trying to keep his cool demeanor to cover his growing unease.

"Oh, yeah, that would have gone over really well," Fullmetal agreed sarcastically. "I can imagine how that would have gone: 'Hey Führer, I know that you're busy being a homunculus out to kill thousands of people with false wars to make Philosopher's Stones and all, but can you tell your Generals not to squeeze my ass or try to get me into bed for special treatment? It really is fucking up my day?'"

"Fullmetal!" Roy banged his hands on his desk and rose with force. The mocking blond jumped up to a sitting position at the sound and turned towards him. "Are you saying that happened?!"

"Heh," the young man said, brushing it off and resting his elbows on his legs. "Not often, and, except for Hakuro, they each only made that mistake once," he smirked. "Although, seemed like I couldn't crash in the dorms or eat in the commissary without someone saying something about it to me." He looked up at Roy's angry face. "Why do you think I stayed in hotels and ate take out all the time?"

Roy stood there stunned. No, he hadn't shielded the kid at all, had he?

-8-

"Seriously, Mustang. It doesn't matter," Ed pushed his hand through his bangs and down his ponytail to the loose ends over his chest. "No one ever got the upper hand anyways. Most of the time, it was just some sleezball saying something about how I kept you 'happy' enough to give me such a 'long leash.' Total bullshit. You know. You were there. We never…"

Ed stumbled as he looked up at Mustang, thinking about that almost kiss. Another blush threatened to embarrass him, so he put his cheeks in his hands and looked at the floor, hiding the rest of his face behind his bangs. He felt the oppressive air return, pushing down on his back, squeezing his lungs.

-8-

Roy stood there, still unable to believe what he was hearing. Years of rumors had circulated that he and Fullmetal must have been trading sexual favors with someone to get the perks or leeway they did, but he never imagined Fullmetal would be harassed in person, to his face. He had only been a boy for crying out loud!

"I want names and dates," Roy finally demanded through gritted teeth.

-8-

"What's it matter now, Mustang? I'm here, they're there. Nothing will change the past. I just have to keep moving forward." Ed huffed. "I just have no idea where that is," He confessed resting his head in his hands more heavily, trading the weight of their sexual tension for the pressure of his self-defeat.

Deflated, Ed wondered what he would do after he and his brother destroyed Huskisson's bomb. He hadn't let himself think about it. Whenever Al asked him, he just changed the subject, but now that they were almost done…

-8-

"It matters to me, Fullmetal," Roy firmly maintained as he walked over to the attractive officer under his command. He was pissed that anyone would assault a member of his team, especially a child, even if said child was an adult now. Roy took a deep, calming breath while standing over the grown man's head allowing the subject change. "Where is it you want to go? What is it you want to do?" Roy took an unsure breath then continued after a beat. "Who is it you want to be with, Fullmetal?"

-8-

Ed's stomach clenched, and he startled at the closeness of the masculine presence above him, flailing ungainly back in his seated position. It brought back too many memories of them here, discussing private things and feeling Mustang's breath in his face. He blushed again only this time, the stunning brunet was sure to see it.

-8-

"Next time, I want names and dates," Roy persisted, tearing his gaze from the adorable flush below him as he noticed the white mist rapidly approaching them. "And if you can't find your way forward, then you might not be the man I thought you were," his voice echoed into the whiteness as the mist crashed over them.

Roy jolted up in his office chair as Hawkeye unceremoniously knocked his boots off his desk, waking him from his lunchtime nap. To her obvious surprise, he smiled to himself and began to whistle as he reached for the report on top of his in box.


	17. Chapter 17

***You're Not Going to Like It***

Central, Amestris, December 1918

Munich, Germany, December 1924

Ed slept soundly for the first time in a long time. He and his brother had spent the two days disarming and disposing of the Uranium bomb's, now non-toxic, components. He'd even sent word to Kai to let the rising leader of China know his people were safe; not that the Asian man had doubted them when they'd had to return to the East, but it was official.

After all this time, the bomb was gone.

It went by in a flash, and the intense concentration he'd needed to dismantle it had provided him a quiet space in his head to honestly think about his own wants for once in his life. And to formulate a plan.

After mulling over what it was that he really wanted, Ed had finally come to terms with the truth.

He wanted to go home.

He wanted to see the snow in Central, he wanted the faces he knew to know him in return, and deep down, he wanted to confront his feelings for a certain Brigadier General. He just needed a way to talk to Al about it.

Now Ed was struggling with how to bring it up. He could just wait for Al to ask him about their future again, but that felt cowardly. No, he would tell Al his plans outright. Ever since they had found the bomb almost seven months ago, he had been thinking about what to do afterwards, even if he was consciously trying not to.

Although Ed had finally seemed to have figured out how to get what he wanted, he was sure his brother was not going to like one bit, but he was sure it would work.

"Hey Al," Ed called out anxiously from their common workspace littered in the productive notes and books they had used but that were now only liabilities.

"Yesh, Eb," Al answered from the restroom around the toothbrush in his mouth.

"I need to spar. I'm going stir crazy in here," Ed said, absently wondering if Al calling him by his first name was going to be a continuing trend to show his younger brother's growing unrest and anger. It always made him sad to hear Al call him 'Ed' instead of the affectionate 'Brother' he was used to; it was a clear giveaway that Al was still mad.

Apparently, Al was pissed over a few things that Ed couldn't control, like his time spent with Hohenheim, and his aggravation was simmering below the surface, only growing in the recesses of his younger brother's mind. Maybe Ed shouldn't have told Al about his time with their shit of a father, but Al had asked. Plus, he hadn't thought Al would get his panties in a bunch over it, but he had.

"Sure, let's go," Al agreed after he spit in the sink and washed his face.

Up on the roof of their umpteenth hotel, the brothers collided. Kicks and hits landed as they flew through the air. Jab, hook, jab, kick, leap, shield. Their rhythm played out in a well-known flow.

"Brother, what are you thinking about? You're distracted," Al queried as he threw a right cross, absentmindedly using his brother's default address. It made Ed smile to receive it, Al's surly new attitude forgotten for the moment.

"Something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Ed huffed as he returned a volley of leaping high kicks.

"What's that?" Al gritted as he blocked.

"Well, I…" he faltered and stood out of his fighting stance. He took a deep breath, looked at the ground to collect his courage, then stared steadily into his brother's olive eyes. "Al, I want to go home."

"What do you mean 'home', Ed?" Al too came out of his defensive posture. "You know we can't go back to your apartment above Gracia's. Lieutenant Hess is still looking for you, and he knows you lived there."

"I know we can't go there, Al." There again was his first name, and Ed knew after his next words, he wouldn't be hearing 'Brother' for a _very_ long time. "No, I want to go home to Amestris," he announced resolutely. "And I have a plan to get us there, but you're not going to like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So I hate short chapters, but this felt so different from the previous chapter or the next one that I had to post it as it's own thing. However, because I didn't want to short-change you, I decided to post another chapter. Imagine that, four chapters in 2 weeks! Enjoy and comment!


	18. Chapter 18

***Fucking Hess***

Central, Amestris, April 1919

Nurnberg, Germany, April 1925

 

"Keep running!" He panted, his long high ponytail wiping his hair into his eyes as he looked over his shoulder.

"I know that, Ed!" came the aggressive retort of his younger brother.

"Just shut up and keep running!" Ed ordered as they careened down the pavement.

"Elric!" Lieutenant Hess' voice echoed down the alley ways. His desperation to catch up with the two he was pursuing before they got away from him was evident in his scream.

He had missed Ed and his 'unknown companion' in Berlin after they had stolen his precious income source last May. Then seven months later, the German officer had again failed to capture them after Ed had resurfaced in a bar just before Christmas.

The brothers had decided they had deserved a drink after saving the world from that damn bomb, even if only they and Kai's people knew about it. Now almost a year after the heist, Hess couldn't afford to let them slip through his hands again. Damn it.

"This way, men! Don't let them get away!" He called out to his subordinates.

Ed and Al had a two block head start, and they were gaining a lead, but Hess was on a rampage tonight. That fucker.

Nocturnal darkness surrounded them, and their footfalls echoed off of the deserted buildings that usually housed bustling commerce. Now, the noises of their chase were the only sounds reverberating through the cold city streets.

Ed considered using one of the fire escapes to get to a roof top so they could hop building roofs and lose their pursuers, but he feared the noise of his automail's weight clanking on the metal stairs and handrails would let Hess know exactly where they were. Plus, they had precious, fragile cargo with them. So, fire escapes were out, but they had to get off the street. The pounding of their feet and heavy breathing was giving away their position.

Turning a corner, the brothers careened down the narrow path between buildings. Their baggage was slowing their ability to run full out, but they would do the best they could. Ed struggled to keep his solid case from banging into his legs as he ran. The cold air stank of trash and sewage, and burned his lungs, but he kept on running.

The last time Hess had found them, Ed and Al had been so exuberant at having disarmed and destroyed the uranium bomb they had treated themselves to a night out. Unbeknownst to them, the bar they had decided to go to had also been frequented by Hess.

The muscular man had been wallowing in a drunken stupor over having lost the only way to completely fund further activities of the Thule Society without securing outside donors. The drunk lieutenant had recognized Ed at the bar and begun to give chase, but he had been too inebriated to follow effectively. Thank fuck!

Ed and Al had moved hotels that night. It was not good to let your enemy know where you were, but they still had to stay local to keep up the work Ed was doing for Fritz, so they had moved across town. They had considered Hamburg, Hanover, and Cologue, but they were either too cold or too unstable for Ed's tastes, so they had moved to Nurnberg the following week. It was a third of the distance closer to Berlin than Munich was, but still centrally located for rail access.

He regretted it now that the fucker was chasing them through what had been a very good hiding place. It just wasn't good enough. Maybe they'd try Paris next, if they could get out of Germany…

Ed spun his head as he heard Hess' men coming closer. He turned just in time to leap a fallen trashcan; he needed to pay attention to where he was going. Since Hess had ruined Plan A, AKA taking a train out of town, they had to make with Plan B, AKA ditch the asshole and find a place to crash. Both were proving to be difficult.

After their run in with Hess at the bar in December, they had agreed that neither of them would leave their rented apartment unless absolutely necessary, especially Ed who was the more recognizable of the two. Even here in Nurnberg. Good thing too, as they had been safe for four months.

When Fritz had heard through his wife that Hess had finally tracked them down earlier today, he had warned the Elrics. They had decided to pack up and move on to a new location tonight, but when they had arrived at the train station, Hess had been waiting for them.

And so, they were on the run.

Again.

"Ahh!" Al slipped on a slick patch of ground, and nearly fell, but Ed caught his brother by his free arm. Their other hands were filled with their bags. If Al broke his fragile contents, then it would put the brothers months behind in their plans to get home. Really it was Ed's plan that Al was still pissed over, but whatever; it was the best they had.

"There they are!" came a nondescript voice of a dutiful soldier.

Bullets started to pop behind them and pock the walls around them. Ed and Al rose their arms to protect their faces as they tried to deflect the exploding brick and stone walls they ran past. Ed over took his younger brother and sprinted ahead.

"Don't shoot them, you fools! I need Elric alive!" Hess ordered his men. "Don't spill a single drop of his blood; I need it all!"

"Damn it!" Ed cursed between breaths. So Hess was after his blood and not the bomb?! Fuck! The mad man had no way of knowing the brothers had destroyed his cash cow, but he could have easily assumed the brothers no longer had it after a year. Ed should have foreseen that.

That could mean only one thing: Hess wanted to open the gate to Amestris again. If that was true, then that would take every drop of blood Ed had in him, and that still might not be enough to open the permanent portal Hess would need for another invasion.

Fuck that shit! No way was he fucking dying so that asshat could invade Amestris again. Ed ground his teeth and ran faster. He led them down another turn and then another quick right through a small alley way. It was a dead end.

"Nice job," Al huffed sarcastically as he took in their blocked path, breathing heavily.

"Shut it," Ed retorted missing his good natured brother. The current version was an angry, jealous, teen who was rebelling against the only person he could, his older brother.

Before they could turn around to retrace their steps, they heard the boom of feet from those chasing them. Al pointed to the bolted door at the end of the row. Ed rammed his automail shoulder into it, and the wood shattered around the handle, letting them pass.

They made a quick entrance, and veered through the labyrinth of hallways and locked doors. Ed found a stairway, and they made their way up to the roof. As they came out onto the flat surface, they looked around urgently. Ed pushed over a stack of bricks in front of the doorway they had just come through. Damn he missed his alchemy. He would have loved to make the door blend into the wall completely.

"Now where?" Al breathed just as they heard a doorway open to the stairwell below.

"Umm…" Ed bit his lip as he scanned the surrounding area. "There" Ed pointed, aiming his suitcase at the closest building.

The brothers took off at full speed. They'd need it to jump the distance. Ed could hear Al on his heels as he came to the edge. One, two, three! He sailed through the air and landed with a heavy thud of his added metal weight. A lighter thump sounded behind him, letting him know that Al made it. They ran to the next building and leapt that distance, too; thankfully it wasn't as far.

After the third leap, they decided to head inside. Taking the stairs down, they ended up at the bottom level in no time. A searching light in the closest glass door had them double back quietly into the shadows. They took a moment to catch their breath and check their sloshy package briefly. Good. It wasn't leaking.

"Ed, we have to get out of here. If we can make it back to the train station, we could still stick with Plan A. Train's leaving in…," Al looked at his watch, "about 15 minutes. That should be enough time for us to get back there, right?"

"Yeah, ok," Ed breathed now that he had the chance. He missed the way Al used to call him 'Brother' affectionately instead of the angry 'Ed' he now got. "You're right. We can't hang around here. They're too close for us to go to ground anywhere near here."

Ed eased his head around the edge of the wall to see if he could detect any light or hear Hess' men. He turned back to Al, nodding his head in the direction they should go. They snuck down the hallway and made it to the back door. Ed grabbed it with his automail hand and twisted it, breaking the weak locked handle.

They waited a second for any noise that would let them know where their pursuers were before proceeding into the empty alley. Ed led the way to the edge of the building. Just as Al came up to him, Ed suddenly swung his brother back against the brick wall.

Al glared at him, but kept quiet, as a group of four ran past them in the darkness. The brothers waited in strained silence for the men's footfalls to dissipate then took off in the opposite direction.

They slipped across the city, trying to keep quiet as they made their way. The further Ed and Al got, the faster they ran. They were running out of time if they were going to catch the last train at the station.

Tha-dump, tha-dump, tha-dump. Ed could hear his heart in his ears and it made it hard to listen for anyone behind them. He could barely make out his brother's breath over his circulatory system.

"Sir, there they are," came a distant voice that Ed could barely make out.

"Damn it. Al let's get the fuck out of here," Ed called before sprinting the rest of the way. The brothers could hear the train pulling away from the platform as they ran through the station's entrance. Thank goodness Fritz had brought them their tickets when he'd warned them Hess was coming.

"Ed," Al called pointing to the train as they ran for it.

"Hurry, Al! We can make it!" Ed called behind him to his trailing brother as they wove through the remaining people scattered in their path.

"Stop them! Don't let them on that train!" Hess' voice carried over the slow chug of the train to the bored patrol guards who jumped at his orders, giving chase.

"Hurry!" Ed cried, desperation beginning to leak into his voice.

Ed threw his bag on the caged end of the caboose and jumped, grabbing hold of the railing with his left hand. He turned back and reached his automail fingers out for his brother. Al extended his arm, their fragile payload flailing out behind him. Their fingers stretched out, inching closer.

"Come on, almost there!" Ed pleaded with his straggling brother. "Almost there!" He could see Hess' men and the station police running after them 40 yards away. Al's slick fingers slipped over and fumbled his metal ones in a desperate attempt to catch Ed grip.

Then then train began to pick up speed.

"DAMN IT, COME ON!" Ed grasped the air between them, hanging from the railing, stretching out for his brother's hand once more.

At that, Al jumped, catching hold of Ed's automail forearm while his feet left the ground. Ed strained with the additional weight, and the metal railing in his flesh hand groaned, complaining as it began to loosen. Ed looked back at the metal base as it began to give way. With one last tug, he pulled his brother and himself up onto the back platform to the sound of Hess' shouts 10 yards away.

Glancing back at the lieutenant, Ed saluted mockingly and smiled broadly as the train pulled away from the station. Finally, they were safe.

At least for a little while.


	19. Chapter 19

***A Leap of Faith***

Central, Amestris, April 1919

In transit, Germany, April 1925

It didn’t take long for Hess to catch up, as much as Ed wished their latest escape from Nurnberg Station would have been the end of the hunt; their pursuer was still hot on their trail. Although, he was glad their express train hadn’t stopped at Wurzberg, between Nurnberg and Fulda on the way north before going through Hannover. Thankfully, Hess’ men hadn’t been able to board, but Ed could still see the motorcade out the window as it followed parallel to the tracks of the train they were riding. Now if the brothers could get off this damn thing before Hess could search it…

Crouching behind luggage in the airy baggage car was all well and good while Al caught his breath from that last ditched effort to lose the fucker, but they needed a strategy to ditch the shithead and his entourage for more than just an hour. Ed looked down at his little brother as Al ignored him.

“We gotta get off this fucking train,” Ed began, catching his brother’s attention.

 “Ya think?” Al replied sarcastically, looking up with sass painted on his face.

“Yeah, Al. I do,” Ed shot back, annoyance heavy in his voice. He’d been putting up with Al’s shitty attitude for too long without a break, and he was about to implode under the pressure.

“Ok, Ed. What’s your brilliant plan this time?” Al demanded. “Going to buy Lieutenant Hess a drink when he boards the train at the next station and hope he doesn’t exsanguinate you?”

“Damn it, Al. I don’t know, but you snapping at me isn’t going to solve this either. Why don’t you help instead of blame me any time a plan goes to hell?” Ed stood up shaking his head trying to think. Fighting with Al right now was not going to do them any good. They needed a way out, and fast.

Pouting, Al frowned his fourteen-year-old face as his eighteen-year-old brain began to churn.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find a train map and figure out where this one is headed. Be right back,” Ed promised, but Al just disregarded him except to give a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Shaking off the snub, Ed left his brother and walked to the door. He needed to give them each some space. It would be great if they could be on the same page for once, but lately, it felt like they weren’t even in the same library, much less the same book.

Ed exhaled before stepping out into the space between cars.

He returned 20 minutes later with a rail map of Germany and a couple bread rolls he had bought in the dinner car. Ed reentered the last train car to find Al moping and handed him his share of the bread. Al grabbed it, and Ed took that as a good sign.

“So I got an updated rail map. Mine’s too old,” Ed said as he offered it to his younger brother, and Al accepted that, too.

“Figure out anything useful?” Al asked in a bland tone as he took a bite of his wheat bun.

“This is an express red eye to Zurich,” said Ed, relaxing at Al’s lack of hostility, “so we won’t be making a stop for a while, but neither of us will be able to cross the border so easily.”

“Let me guess, since we don’t have travel documents, we can’t leave Germany by official routes,” Al pursed his brow.

“Fritz just picked the last train to give us the cover of night,” Ed shrugged. “Even if we weren’t being chased down by Hess right now, we couldn’t leave the country on this train. We’re going to have to get off, and soon,” he confirmed. “We’ll be hitting Fulda Station in 40 minutes, though. Got any ideas?”

“None worth mentioning,” Al said flatly opening up the rail map on the floor in front of him.

Ed strained to prevent a large sigh from escaping his lips and failed. He didn’t like his brother’s response, but they didn’t have time to sort any of their ongoing shit out right now either. Ed leaned over the map, pointing out their location.

“This is where we are, and the next stop is here,” Ed indicated, tracing his finger along their northern route. “There’s a small hilly area right here before the tracks diverge; I’d say we have about 10 minutes until we get there. If the train schedule times are right, a train going west should be passing us about that time in the corridor. If we have no other options, I say we jump ship and catch the west bound train towards Frankfurt.”

“Fine.” Al said, then paused and looked up at his brother again, an amusing double take. “Wait, what? You want to jump trains mid transit? While they are moving in opposite directions?!”

Ed sighed again.

“If we have to, we have to. Not sure what else to do. I mean, they’d both be slowing down, and it’s better to jump onto a train going in another direction than to just hop off and wonder around in the snow covered wilderness while that fuckhead’s still close until we can find somewhere to hide.”

Incredulous olive eyes just watched him.

“Damn it, Al. It’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it,” he said with a huff as he slid down the crate opposite the one Al was propped up against. “All I know is that Hess knows we’re on this train, and that pass is the only blind spot before he reaches us at the next station. So what do you want to do, Al?

“He’s been chasing us all over the fucking place, and help’s not coming. Kai’s back in China, Fritz is being watched, and everyone we know in Munich is either dead or under surveillance, except Noah, and fuck knows where she is. That’s it; no one’s coming. It’s just you and me,” he emphasized his words by pointing to each of them. “I promise I’m going to get us home, Al. I will. I just need you to tell me what you want to do.”

The brothers locked eyes and stared at each other for a long, tense moment. It had been a challenging four months locked up in cramped hotel rooms, and they both knew it would take at least another eight to complete the preparations for Ed’s stupid-as-fuck plan. It still raised Al’s hackles and burned brimstone in his unforgiving gaze. Ed knew they were tired, stressed, and rundown, but he also knew they needed a way out of this foxhole. This was just the most expedient one.

And Ed was letting Al decide. Yes, he wanted Al to give in already and stop fighting him on his admittedly horrible plan, but Ed wanted to give his brother the choice. Whether it was because he loved his brother more than anything in either world, hated that the younger teen was angry with him, or just wanted Al to have his two cens, Ed couldn’t say. All he knew was that he’d had enough of his younger brother’s biting attitude and sharp rebukes. Al either needed to come up with his own plan to get them home to Amestris or get on board with Ed’s. It was time to put up or shut up.

Al broke eye contact first and glared at the floor instead, then muttered a resentful reply.

“I want to go home.”

“Well, alright then,” Ed said, getting up and heading for the window by the door. From his post he ate his bread absently as he watched the empty space of No Man’s Land between the glowing serpent of Hess’ group’s headlights and the dispassionate train he and Al occupied. A thrumming was building in his veins, pumping him full of nervous tension. As the landscape became more a rippling ocean of dark green than a feathered placid lake, Ed finished his bread. It was almost time.

“So, how do we keep our bags safe?” Al asked into the silence. “This one for sure will break if we’re not careful, and then all your efforts will have been in vain,” he said with a slight sneer in his young voice as he lifted said package.

“Uh… just don’t break it?” Ed hedged. He hadn’t thought of that.

“That’s the best you can do? ‘Just don’t break it?’” Al shook his head and ground his teeth, obviously fighting back whatever snarky remark he wanted to say.

“Then you think of something,” Ed bit back.

“How about we tuck and then roll, like any other tumble Teacher taught us?” Al suggested thoughtfully. Ed was glad in this moment that, once his brother decided something, he, too, kept at it until the goal was reached.

“Yeah, only this time our bodies will take the brunt of the force if we encircle the bags, protecting our stuff,” Ed elaborated. “So, tuck and roll?”

“Tuck and roll,” Al grudgingly agreed then shut his mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

It was bad enough Ed had forced Al to help him collect the samples they’d need for his foolhardy plan, but on top of that, Ed knew it was unequivocally unfair to always have Al carry the dreadful load, also. However, Ed’s automail limbs had almost cracked its glass on numerous occasions, and since it would put them further and further behind in completing Ed’s cockamamie plan if they lost it, Al had needed to be the one to bear the burden.

Ed crossed to the door in silence, but he could feel, more than see, Al rise and join him. Careful of the amount of additional light he let escape, as to not alert any Thule members watching the train, he cracked open the door to the caboose and spied through the slit in the darkness. The deep emerald fields were rolling into higher peaks now. Then suddenly the snowcapped grassy surf rose steeply, and Ed opened the door to the tailgate of their car just in time to see the obsidian green hillside cut across their line of sight to the Hess convoy.

With a stiff exhale, Ed exited and began to climb one handed up the train’s exterior, secure in the knowledge that they were not visible to the fucking jackass lieutenant. Nervous energy seeped into his muscles as he thought about what they were doing: they were going to try to escape one dangerous jackass by attempting an insane ploy. Train jumping was no joke.

If he’d been younger, he’d have had no qualms about attempting the feat, but here, with no alchemy to form a safety net if needed, it gave him pause. They were risking their lives with this jump, but to do nothing meant his death at Hess’ hands. However, it was too late now to take it back. This was what he and Al had decided to do, and he wouldn’t undo that choice.

With every step, his hard suitcase beat the back of his knees and calves as he ascended the cold metal rungs budding from the carriage. Once he stood on the top, sharp wind whipped Ed’s hair into his watering eyes as he faced the darkening direction they were leaving behind. Turning to look over his shoulder at the oncoming airstream, he tried to shake his piss colored filaments out of his view so he could see along the train’s roof. Thankfully it was clear.

The cool damp air felt heavy on his skin, but he ignored its moist threat. The night sky was heavy with blackness, but its full and domineering clouds weren’t perspiring… yet.

He secured his luggage stably behind him, below his ass; next he untwisted, bending over the edge. Reaching down, Ed grabbed hold of Al’s hand and pulled up with all his might, allowing his brother to gain purchase atop the swaying roof while still keeping their precious and fragile cargo in tow, safe and sound. Al’s weight shifted to enable him to stand firmly atop the rocking platform in the wind, and Ed’s arm slid to his brother’s forearm, letting Al find his balance.

They looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. Ed then lifted his case and stood. He had walked trains in Amestris, but never at night and never hindered by luggage. Nor had he done so with his burdened kid brother. Keeping an eye on Al, Ed led the way.

Slowly they waded towards the middle of the car together, and Ed remembered with every step how Maes Hughes had taught him how to walk a train. Gritting his teeth, he pushed away the warm memory of his 11-year-old self meeting Hughes on a hijacked train roof a lifetime ago. He didn’t have the time to think about that now; he had to focus.

Once they were in the center of the grooved metal plating, they sank to kneeling positions and waited for their ride. Hunter green hills covered in the remains of winter’s last snow rolled along both sides of the train like a silent dark parted sea ready to crush them. The chill in the air from the icy crests crept into Ed’s joints making his automail ache fiercely.

He needed to be limber. He couldn’t afford to jump if he was locked up, so he began to bounce on his freezing flesh toes as his impatience bled through his concentration. Before he could be overtaken by anxious rocking, he heard the clambering of the oncoming train. He glanced back at his brother, and was glad to see Al’s steadfast poise as the silver dragon beneath them protested the need to decelerate at the sharp turn in the tracks. It was reassuring in this bitter fight to see his brother’s resolve so firm.

“Alright, Al,” he shouted over the din of metal wheels and the screech of breaks, hoping the young teen could hear him. “Here we go. Jump on the count of three!” He watched his brother gesture his acknowledgement then turned back to the task at hand, bobbing his head in time to the train cars’ movements, getting the timing just right. “One… Two… Three!”

Ed sprung from his place up into the air and pulled his suitcase into his stomach and rolled. Overcompensating for his throbbing automail ports, he realized too late he’d jumped too high. His flesh shoulder hit hard against the metal sheeting before he bounced head over feet, just glimpsing his brother in the same ‘tuck and roll’ position they’d agreed was the best option.

Ed tumbled another two and a half times before the roof left him entirely and fell between compartments. He slammed his back, spread eagle, against the door of the carriage’s tailgate area, nearly falling off completely and dropping his suitcase on the platform. Even with the sharp pain of the impact and the wind knocked out of him, he glanced up in horror, waiting for Al to repeat his fall.

“Al?” He called over the cacophony of noise. When nothing came, he jerked his head sharply to each side of the train, searching for a glimpse of amber brown hair in the blanketed valley left behind. There was no sign of Al, on either side. Frantic, Ed jumped the space between cars, “Al!” He shouted, leaping up the built-in ladder and climbing the rungs, his luggage forgotten, his heart pounding in his throat, chocking him. “Al!” he croaked.

“Al! AL!!” He screamed, his voice scraping its way out, but the freezing whip of air stole his words as they came out of the pass. All sound was lost to the train’s escalating speed. Panting like a mad man and with his gut dropping, he made it to the top of the compartment he had first landed on when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Ed nearly fell back as he tried to free himself from the shrouded figure’s hold. All he could think was that Hess had found him and Al was dead or maimed somewhere. Flailing back, just barely keeping his automail grasp of the top rung, he glimpsed the exposed rails below him. The hand on Ed gripped him hard, pulling him forward. Looking up this time, Ed saw olive eyes, alive with adrenaline, and Ed was struck deaf and dumb. It wasn’t Hess. It was Al. Al was safe, whole and perfect, with pink in his cheeks, grinning as big as Ed had ever seen.

“Let’s not do that again, Brother,” Al shouted as their faces came in close, obvious relief flooding his features at seeing Ed alive, giving rise to his use of ‘Brother,’ all anger lost for a moment. He reached up with his free arm and wrapped his younger brother in a tight embrace which was returned with equal vigor.

“Thank fuck,” Ed murmured into his brother’s shoulder. All the golden blond could take in was his younger brother’s warmth expelling any remaining fear in his heart. He smiled so wide he knew his grin took up his whole face. It was clear, not only did Ed live for Al, but Al lived for Ed. They needed each other, even if they were snapping at each other or fighting back to back. They always would.

Al smirked at Ed as he snorted and shoved their fragile package into Ed’s face.

“Let’s get down, Brother, before you lose your balance a third time and really do fall off.” Al’s voice filled Ed’s heart with tenderness; it had been four months since his younger brother’d had a kind word for him, and Ed was relieved to hear it. It’s amazing what a near death experience will do to your relationships.

They carefully lowered themselves onto the tailgate and let themselves into the door Ed had smashed into. He then picked up his disregarded suitcase, carefully holding a bag in each hand, before heading in. He was vaguely surprised no one had come running at the harsh impact he’d made earlier, but once he’d opened the door, he began laughing hysterically. Glancing around Ed’s shoulder, Al peeked into the dark compartment to see what was so funny.

“Shut up, Ed,” Al ground out his annoyed embarrassment as he pushed past Ed’s hooting, losing all his good humor at having found the twenty-year-old alive.

“I didn’t… say anything…” Ed protested between cackling, holding his sides to try and contain his mirth.

On the other side of the door lay a full car of sheep.

Tears running down his face, Ed remembered losing his armor bound brother boxed up and surrounded by bleating ewes once upon a time in Amestris. Ed was sure it wasn’t as funny as all that, by the look on Al’s exasperated face, but it sure as hell was releasing the stress of thinking he’d lost his brother to his stupid ass idea of rescuing them from Hess by nearly killing them jumping trains. At least they were safe and off to find a new hiding place somewhere the fucker wouldn’t find them. At least that was the hope until they could get home.

Ed took deep cleansing breaths to calm himself down and save Al the embarrassment of the memory. After the first one, he began to cough as he breathed in the smell of wool, shit, and hay on the cold night air as it began to rain against the metal compartment. Once he was able to breathe again, Ed dropped his suitcase on the floor next to him and placed their precious container securely against his side. He sank down next to Al, burrowing in ( _not fucking snuggling_ ) for body heat as they settled in for the trip west, both of them much more relaxed than they had been in too long.

They’d be safe and warm for tonight at least, and maybe that was enough to let Ed dream of Mustang, even if he hadn’t been able to contact the man in Amestris for months. If his stupid ass plan was going to work, they were going to need to lay low, at least for a little while.


	20. Chapter 20

***Dog Fight***

Central, Amestris, December 1919

Munich, Germany, December 1925

"In order for this to work, we need to get back to that villa outside of Munich," Ed told his brother over the sound of sheep bleating.

It was almost funny in a way. The past eight months of hiding had started with them surrounded by sheep, and here they were again. If Ed didn't know better, he'd say that the country boys from Resembool would always find their way back to their roots.

"What about Hess," Al asked. He was petting the ewe next to him, but Ed suspected the gentle action was more to keep the 100-pound animal from falling on him again as they went over bumps in the road.

"Fritz's note said the lieutenant is out of town for the moment, so now's the time," Ed confided.

"Ok, so how do we get there? We'll have to take the trains," Al began planning, "because I doubt we can take this the whole way there." Al indicated derisively at the truck bed they were sitting on, surrounded by the fleecy herd of ewes and wethers. They had only been traveling with the kindly old sheep herder for a few days, but Ed doubted they'd ever get the smell out of their meager belongings.

"The train stations are still being watched," Ed considered their plight. "Even if we did use the trains, and even if we weren't spotted, it would take at least a week to get back there." After a few seconds, he smiled. "I've got it," Ed replied confidently. "We'll fly."

"We'll what?" Al demanded in surprise, incredulity lining his features.

"We'll fly. Hess is watching the ground, but he isn't watching the skies," Ed said with excitement building in his compacted frame. The sheep were taking up most of the space, leaving little room for him and his brother. "Don't worry, Hess will never find us."

If only things went according to plan...

8***8

A dawn breeze blew across the snow covered mound, brushing a chill across Ed's cheek. The sun was coming up across the airstrip in a sharp line delineating day from night as the shadow of purples and blues gave way to harsh yellow. Tall fluffy clouds pillared the winter sky, breaking up the starkness of the open air.

The plan to get them back to the villa had been simple, but 'simple' never went according to plan. Ever. Fuck. Why didn't it ever go to fucking plan?!

Ed inched closer to the edge of the hanger's gaping entrance. He and Al were hiding in their barely warm trench coats behind the small snow bluff. They were hunkered down under a tarp covering boxes of what he assumed were new supplies for the outpost. He could see the mechanics making final checks on a few small red biplanes that were sure to be meant as the main cargo plane's escort.

Fritz's note two days ago had told Ed that Hess would be out on some assignment and that this would be their best window to get back to the outskirts of Munich. With that jackass distracted, they could crawl out of hiding to get back to Haushofer's villa. Since they needed to do so as soon as possible, the Elrics had decided a plane ride was going to be the fastest way there, or rather Ed had the idea and Al couldn't find a better option for them to take. It would also be the least likely transportation option that Hess would be monitoring, so here they were.

That fucking prick had chased them through most of southern Germany before the Elrics were able to finally lose him somewhere between Nurnberg and Fulda, when they had jumped trains mid-transit to head west instead of north.

Now, they were planning to 'borrow' a biplane and make their way back to Munich 'as the crow flies' rather than by the convoluted train routes. It would take them a week at best using the branching and illogical transportation itineraries; there was a lot to be said for the straightforward Amestrian train system.

Shaking himself, needing to focus, Ed signaled to Al that their route was still blocked. There were more people here than there should have been for just a supply run. Damn it.

Once they retreated to a more secure location, Al began bitching at him.

"So what do we do now, Ed? Like I said, we should have just taken the trains. It's not like Hess can catch us if we're moving," Al poked his brother, having used his given name again to show his irritation. Really, it was more the norm than the exception these days.

'Where has my sweet little brother gone?' Ed thought guiltily. Breathing out a heavy sigh, Ed wondered if the gate had done more to Al than they realized. Could Al have been altered fundamentally, or was this simply a case of Al taking his frustrations out on Ed once more for being denied the life Al could never have with Hohenheim?

Or was it Al's newest pet peeve? Al had decided he was pissed about a lot of things, but more specifically, he was angry that Ed had broken his promise. When the serial killer, Scar, had tried to kill them both at the tender ages of 11 and 12, respectively, Ed, the State Alchemist and older brother, had offered his life to protect Al's. Of course Al had been furious, but what could Ed have done differently?

He had just lost their fight hand to hand, his automail arm had been destroyed, he couldn't have done alchemy with his signature clap, Al's armor had been half destroyed, and Scar was standing above him wanting revenge on State Alchemists for slaughtering Ishbalans three years before Ed even joined up with the military. The whole thing had been fucked up.

Anyways, Al had made Ed promise after they had been saved that he would never give himself up like that again; they needed each other, yet Ed had gone back on his word. He had traded himself for Al's partial restoration: Al's original 10-year-old body with no memory of their shared years searching the Stone and trying to get their bodies back.

Ed would do it again in a heartbeat, and that was probably what pissed Al off so much. He'd do anything for his younger brother. Well, fuck it. Al was whole now. His memories were intact thanks to his having crossed the gate two years ago, and he only looked four years younger, so he could just deal, damn it. Ed huffed out a tired sigh.

"Ah, come on," he pleaded with his defiant younger brother while trying to stay optimistic from their hiding place. "It's just a few more techs than expected. We can still borrow a plane when no one is looking. We just have to wait for an opening to…"

An alarmingly familiar sound cut off his pep talk. They heard the hammer of a gun click back and a heavy voice begin to laugh. Ed knew that black chuckle, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up. Spinning slowly around to face it, he stepped forward enough to block their assailant's view of Al.

"Looks like I finally found you, Elric, and your damn no-name accomplice, too," Hess smiled a devious grin taking in the sight of them both. "What is the saying? You will find what is lost in the place you least expect it? Now, move," he ordered sternly indicating that they should start walking towards the hanger.

"Whatever, Hess, you jackass," Ed toned low, stepping further in front of Al, but the effort was wasted as another round of guns were cocked behind them. He whipped his head around to take in the line of soldiers with their weapons raised. As he turned his attention back to Hess, the block of a man backhanded him across his cheek, sending him spinning to the ground.

"I believe I said 'move!'" He yelled, and Al stood up from his crouch while Ed got up from the ground. Hess' men came forward and bound their hands in handcuffs, taking possession of their two bags as the brothers were shoved onwards. Ed kept an eye on his brother, their package, and the shithead.

They walked across the field to the metal building. The space was large enough to house the cargo plane that was readying for take-off and her entourage. Its thin aluminum sheeting trapping the noises within so that they echoed in the large, mostly empty space.

There were only two small, biplanes still occupying the metal cavern. One had its engine exposed with a tool cart next to it, while the other appeared to be awaiting a new paint job, as evidenced from the new unpainted forward panel, but there was nothing else out of the ordinary about the latter.

Ed thought it was comical that the former, needing the most work, was the armed one, while the latter lacked a gun in its turret. He smirked as he imagined he resembled the second plane. His automail also a stark contrast to the coloring of the rest of his body, and his weapon, his alchemy, was also missing.

Hess turned to them then, smiling so widely that it looked to Ed like his face might split, and Ed wanted to split it for another reason.

"So now that you have me, what do you plan to do with me?" Ed asked the boxy lieutenant.

"What Haushofer and Eckhart failed to do. We are going to open the gate to Shamballa, and this time, we are going to crush them!" He grasped his fist tightly in front of Ed's face as the malice in his words bled through his unbridled anger. Ed pursed his lips and glared at his adversary.

"Why?" Ed demanded in a low voice. "Why the fuck do you want to conquer my world?"

"'Why' you ask? Because the Aryan race is destined to rule the world. Every world. And you are the key," Hess grinned wider and Ed grew sick to his stomach at the sight. "Keep them here until ground vehicles can be appropriated." He ordered his men then added more to himself, "I am glad I came to see the supplies off in person. Who would have guessed my key would be here waiting for me?" Hess laughed as he set off across the covered expanse.

"Great. This is just great, Ed," Al mumbled his annoyance. "'We'll fly,' you said. 'It'll save us a week,' you said. 'Don't worry,' you said. 'Hess will never find us.' Man, are you stupid. I don't even know why I listen to you anymore."

"Give it a rest already, would you. I just need to think," Ed muttered back, only loud enough for Al to hear. He was debating his options as his brother's anger weighed down on him. If he could get them to one of the two planes they were sequestered between, Ed could fly them out of there; it would be great to be back in a cockpit again.

He just needed to make sure that:

1) they didn't get shot,

2) the plane was functional enough to fly,

3) he could secure their cargo, and

4) Al would get over his irritation enough to do what Ed said.

Well, here's hoping…

"Oi!" Ed called out to the three guards that were watching them.

"Ed, what are you doing?" Al hissed.

"Trust me Al, and just go along," Ed ordered under his breath, and he heard a grudging 'Hmm' of acknowledgement. "Oi! Over here you pansy assed idiots," Ed called out to the soldiers again.

"Quiet, damn foreigner," one of them rejoined as he stared down his sharp nose at them. His light brown brows furrowing above his straight cheek bones. "You should be honored that Lieutenant Hess has deemed to give you the opportunity to serve the heirs of the Aryan race."

"Yeah, I am so glad that I think I need to take a shit," Ed prodded them.

"You ungrateful little freak!" Another brunet replied, approaching with a slight limp to his right side.

"Well, you three are the ones who will have to smell me if you don't let me take care of it," Ed warned them tauntingly.

"And it's a long trip back," Al offered helpfully with a subversive smirk of his own.

The three German troopers glanced at each other before they agreed. Both Sharp Nose and Limpy approached Ed, and when they were close enough, Ed head-butted Sharp Nose. Spinning out of Limpy's grasp, Ed kicked his right knee sideways causing the already unsteady man to cry out and stagger before Ed landed a graceful knee kick to his head, knocking him unconscious. The third man, a blond with beady brown eyes, began running at Ed as he landed, but Al threw himself at his brother's attacker, knocking Beady Eyes into the hard cement floor.

Al rolled to a standing position, his hands still tied behind his back, and kicked Beady Eyes' head before the man could fully rise. Ed turned to see Broken Nose staggering to right himself after Ed's blow disoriented him, his eyes blurry with tears and blood rushing in torrents down his contorted face. Ed took a long swing of his metal leg and felt it connect before the soldier fell with a thud like meat on a slab. At the sound, Ed was somehow reminded of the Curtis' butcher shop back home and grinned.

Ed bent down and grabbed the keys to their cuffs from the closest unconscious man, and set to freeing himself as the brothers moved towards the unarmed plane without any obvious mechanical flaws. He hoped the sounds of their altercation hadn't carried to wherever the hell Hess was, but judging from their luck, he knew the obsessive lieutenant would be coming any second now. His hands unbound, he twisted the key in his brother's restraints, and Ed freed Al in a hurry before giving orders of his own.

"Al, get up there, in the front and do as I tell you," Ed pointed to the seat. "You have to start the plane while I find our bags."

"What? Why? Just forget them Ed, or let me get them and you start the plane," Al's irritation tainting his argument.

"There's no time for this, just do it Al, or it will take us another fucking year in this damn place before we can try to get home," Ed pleaded.

The brothers glared at each other for another half second before Al turned and hurried up the ladder that hung from the cockpit.

Ed, appreciative of Al's grudging cooperation, began giving directions on how to start the engine and prepare for takeoff as he ran deeper into the building. He could hear voices shouting now as the dull clunking of the engine starting was followed by the familiar hum of blades chopping the air in the large acoustic hanger.

"Elric!" Hess screeched over the echoing den. Shots fired from around the commander over the distance as armed men rushed the brothers. "Don't shoot him, you fools! I need every drop of his blood! Every drop!" Hess screeched out, enraged. Turning their attention to Al and the plane, bullets ripped through the canvas of the wings and zinged off the metal body instead.

"Bastards!" Ed yelled, gritting his teeth at the fact that the soldiers were targeting his little brother. His temper flared. He rushed to their bags along the far wall, grabbing them one in each hand, and was relieved to note that the padded bag not carrying their clothes and personal items was not leaking. Turning around, he could see Al ducking below the cockpit's edge to avoid being hit as the plane began to slowly roll forward.

Sprinting back to their crawling high-jacked plane, Ed used the hard battered case that held their few possessions as a shield, holding it up on the outside of his metal arm while yelling instructions to his brother for takeoff. The whizzing metal flies ricocheted off the curved plane body and he didn't want them biting into him. Running like mad, Ed moved with his heavy and awkward burdens to the plane's ladder while more uniformed soldiers stomped and yelled as they entered the echoing aluminum cage.

"Ed, hurry!" Al wailed from his metallic fox hole. If his life didn't depend on it, Ed would have laughed at the reversal of Al being on a moving transport while Ed rushed to join him followed by a yelling Hess.

Brown clad reinforcements opened another bout of gunfire much to the irate furry of their commander. New zings and metallic echoes barked at the ground around Ed. A few zips bounced off of Ed's shield as he ran desperately. In response to the additional threat, Al turned the plane to block their aim from a direct shot with Ed running alongside his moving blockade.

"Stop firing, damn it!" Hess ordered irately. "I said I need him alive!"

"Here," Ed yelled, taking advantage of the stop in the bullet barrage to throw their sturdy, scuffed suitcase up to his brother to catch. Reaching out, Ed began to climb the rungs of the moving plane's ladder one handed with his precious, fragile cargo in the other.

The plane moved outside the metal cave right at Hess and anyone stupid enough to tempt Al right now. Apparently, Ed wasn't the only one who didn't like the soldiers firing at Al. The German soldiers took cover or leapt out of the plane's path. Settling into his seat, Ed stowed their vital carry-on between his legs and took command of the controls which Al gave up happily.

"Alright, Al, I got it from here. Just hold on. I think you're really going to love this!" Ed shouted to his brother in the front seat.

"All yours, Brother," Al replied, too riled up by the Germans to be angry at Ed. "Just don't kill us! We can't get home if we're dead!"

Sirens wailed and the German ground troops ran to the armaments. As for Hess, instead of chasing the moving target, he began boarding the last plane, obviously disregarding the warnings being shouted at him that it was not fully repaired.

"Don't shoot him! Don't shoot my key!" Hess yelled the order to his men who were too far away for them to hear him, especially over the maul of the alarm and propellers' thrum.

Through a round of bullet fire from the lookout post on the field tower's roof, Ed guided their plane to the snow-free strip of gravel used for takeoffs. He had them in the air before Al could protest too much. Ed was wearing a huge smile on his face as the screech of the alarm quieted with their distance.

Soon enough though, Ed could hear a second plane speeding through the air along with them. Hess's waving arms and balled fist told him that the deranged ass was yelling, trying to transmit his demands to them; Ed couldn't make out what was said, but he knew the words without hearing them.

"Hang on Al," Ed called out over the deafening cacophony of engines and wind.

He tried to lose Hess in the cloud bank, but the enemy was on their tail. Damn it. How can that one fucker be so determined to mass murder innocent people in worlds that knew nothing about Germany, Thule, or the Aryan agenda?

The Elrics rose into the sky at a steep incline to get away as quickly as possible, but they were not saved the anti-air shells as the base below tried their best to bring the plane down. Concussive blasts rocked them in their metal box with canvas wings held together by bolts and wires. Quite a few bullet holes were beginning to show their tattered edges with the additional strain of ascension.

Another shock from a mid-air detonation blasted in the air around them, this time peppered with machine gun fire. Bullets whizzed through the air around them, biting straight through both levels of the right wing and lancing the ricochet off of their underbelly.

8***8

A seething Hess, fighting with the controls of his lame steed, ground his teeth when he wasn't yelling to men who couldn't hear him. He needed Elric alive to complete his invasion. Thule was going to be the strength of the nation once he conquered Shamballa. It was the only way to regain their foothold in the battle for Germany's future. No, the future of the whole world. He, Lieutenant Rudolf Hess, would hand his Führer the weapons and power needed to seize control of this failing nation and the rest of Europe and then both known worlds! Together, they would lead the Aryan race into prosperity for all time! And all he needed to do it was his key!

"Stop firing, mother fuckers!" Hess turned his attention from his pursuit of Elric to the ground troops trying to exterminate his precious key. "You're going to destroy my key! My key!" Growling, he screamed out the impossible to hear order to cease firing.

Furious and losing restraint, he turned his plane, choosing a new target. He aimed and fired his onboard gun. _Ratatata tata_ , the revolving chamber spun. _Ratata tata ta_ , Hess fired at the rooftop anti-air gun. _Ratata_ , his gun stilled as it emptied just as it caused the weapons on the ground to explode with a loud blast and a pyre of smoke.

8***8

Hearing the exchange of bullets, Ed pushed the engine to new heights. He quickly checked over his instruments, glad to see that the tank was just over 3/4th full. He made quite a few sharp maneuvers in order to lose Hess, who was too crazed to realize he was firing on his own men much less follow Ed's flight pattern. Unfortunately for the Elrics, Hess could apparently handle himself well in the air, even out of his mind.

Who fires on his own men to capture the enemy?! That was just insane! Then Ed remembered stories of Solf Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist, and his crimes in Ishbal. Ed shook his head. Now was not the time for him to be remembering Amestrian military trivia. Damn it. Being this close to going home was messing with him. He needed his concentration sharp. Come on, Ed, focus!

Cutting through a cloud bank to lose their pursuer, Ed heard Al yell something, but by his pointing, Ed could tell he was trying to let Ed know where Hess was. Aiming for the cloud behind where Al had indicated, Ed tried to slip into Hess' blind spot.

Weaving in and out of the clouds nervously, Ed flew fast. Freezing precipitation was building up on his coiled body. His wide eyes were burning as he searched for their mark, icy wind blowing in his face. His shoulders hunching up to his ears with the stress, his fighting instincts did not allow him to relax. Shivers began to shake him from the mix of his adrenaline, the water buildup, and chilled wind. Straining to hear the tell-tale sound of another plane, he was startled when it came from in front of him, growling louder with each second.

Ed dove just in time for Hess to fly over them, their enemy's plane giving off billowing smoke and shrieks of anger from an irrational pilot. He could hear the cackle disappearing as Hess flew into a hazy embankment, hidden from view again.

Repeatedly, Ed tried to discern where Hess was, but the sounds of their own propellers kept other lesser sounds from reaching him. He aimed the plane in the general direction of Munich, just in case they lost Hess.

Once again, Ed's simple plans never fucking worked out.

Hess came at them for a second time, this stint was from below and to the left. Swerving, Ed dodged the blow, but had to grip harder with both hands to gain control of the stick, Hess an afterthought at that point.

"S-shit! Which way d-did he go, Al?!" Ed stuttered over the noise once he was in control again.

"D-dunno! Lost s-sight of him from the w-way we moved!" Al shouted back around his shivers, an apology in his voice.

They strained their ears as they flew straight. Glancing around to see any of the smoke that had grown considerably since the first pass Hess had made at them.

Another sound spooked Ed, and he yanked the plane right. Suddenly, he was in an exposed area of sky and he could feel the crispness of the air around him. He marveled at the blueness of the expanse just before thunderous dark smoke preceded Hess into the empty air to their right, making both Ed and Al startle.

The sadistic laugh to their side filled Ed's spine with needles. Hess was so close Ed could hear the frenzied man crowing and see the crazed madness in his wide eyes, those focused piercing eyes that cut through the shortening distance to spear Ed to his seat with their wild gaze.

Ed tried to lose him in the clouds to their left, but Hess cut him off, and Ed had to adjust with an abrupt pull of his stick. He nearly lost command of the plane this time only to have Hess fly close enough next to them that Ed could see the glint of his sidearm just before he fired.

Swooping down to the left, Ed tried to gain speed in his decent, but Hess stuck with him as another shot fired. Looking off at their attacking shadow, Ed saw that Hess was so fixated on aiming his gun at Ed that he was using both hands to fire. In his mad maneuver, Hess bucked and his airplane swung wildly, spiraling down.

Before Ed could dodge the bullet this time, Al cried out, and Ed pitched them up, afraid that Al had been hit. The force of the move slammed him down in his seat and he had to straighten them out before he could call out to his brother.

"Al! AL?!" Ed gripped his handle to assure their safety, but lost sight of Hess.

"I'm alright, Brother!" Al yelled back to Ed's relief.

Just as the reprieve washed over him, Ed heard a distinct sound of metal and gas, fire and earth, power and destruction. Leaning over the dented metal edge, both Al and Ed saw the terrible explosion as Hess, flailing in his seat, slammed his plane into the ground far below.

The visible explosion looked small to Ed, larger than lighting a match, smaller than any explosion Ed had seen or caused. It looked like it was the size of one of Mustang's flames he held in his hand, but Ed knew the deadly truth. Hess was engulfed in fire and gas and shrapnel.

Hess, finally, was dead.

Ed and Al were alive and on their way back to Munich.

Ed shook his head at the loss of life, at how easy it was to die, and how helpless he was to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters so far. I love the aerial battle so much! My wonderful husband gave me some great advice and is the best irl beta reader, ever. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!


	21. Chapter 21

***It Wasn't Enough***

Central, Amestris, December 1920

Munich, Germany, December 1926

"Whatever you say, Ed," Alphonse said with anger in his 15-year-old speech. His voice was deepening, but he was still frustrated with his physical condition. You try being 19 in a 15-year-old body.

"Come on, Al. Don't be like that. We're so close, don't spoil it by being mad about things we can't control," Brother pleaded as he tried to calm his younger brother, his grin strained over his pallid face. It was another cost of this ridiculous plan. They had been working on this for a year, but Alphonse had fought his brother at every step. The only thing keeping Alphonse in line was that neither of them had found another way of doing it.

"Fine," Alphonse capitulated as he wallowed in his anger.

It was amazing what one year could do to a person. It seemed that Brother wasn't the only one who needed a mission he believed in to feel like himself. Alphonse knew he had been getting more and more irritated as the time drew near, but couldn't seem to help himself.

If it wasn't his older brother's blind optimism that this dangerous plan would work that upset him, it was something else. Alphonse vacillated between his loss of never getting to know their father, Hohenheim of Light, his anger at Brother's broken promise to never sacrifice himself again, or his guilt over opening the flood gates to war on Amestris.

Alphonse had realized during his first year in Germany that Brother had lived with their father here. The brothers had talked about it during the nearly six months it had taken them to work out how to safely destroy the uranium bomb, after their equally long search for the Amestrian artifact.

It burned Alphonse's insides to know that the brother, who had claimed to hate Hohenheim so much in their youth, had been given the chance to live a normal life with him, even if it was a short period of time before Hohenheim had disappeared on Brother again. It irked Alphonse further to know that Brother had left their father to study rocketry to get home. How could Brother have wasted what little time their father had left?

When Brother had explained that their father had been dying, since his soul could no longer support a body, Alphonse had cried. As he'd discovered more about their father's sacrifice to get Brother home, and that this crazy plan was based on that information as well as an article Brother had read about anticoagulants, he felt love for the man he barely knew.

He also felt a blazing sense of betrayal, and immediately Alphonse imagined that this is what Envy, their homunculus elder half-brother, must have felt. Edward Elric was the prized son among the three of them, even if he denied it. Alphonse could see it now. No wonder Envy had been so angry at Hohenheim and Brother.

Of the Elric brothers, Brother had lived the most time with their father. Hohenheim had taken care to build Brother replacement limbs once he'd arrived in this world. Their father had done everything in his power to open a gate to get Brother home, even giving up his own life and Envy's to do it.

And what did Brother have to say about it?

'He was a shit of a father. He left us, Al. He left mom; didn't even come to her funeral. He gave up his life for nothing; I still ended up back here anyways, didn't I?'

Brother was an ungrateful asshole. How could he be so heartless about someone giving up their life in order to get him home?

Alphonse shook his head as he continued to sketch on the ceiling. After the excitement of their flight to Haushofer's burned down and abandoned villa had worn off, they had been quiet as Alphonse had begun to stew in his resentment again. The last time they had been here, they had set the library on fire after destroying the gate, a gate they were going to try to recreate- sort of. Thinking about this plan made him so angry at Brother that he couldn't help but think of the other things he was mad about.

Alphonse was angry that his brother had broken his promise.

When Alphonse had jumped onto the last rocket ship the Germans had used to destroy Central (and don't even get him started on how guilty he was about letting them in), Alphonse had wanted to be reunited with his brother whom he could only partially remember. Once he was through the gate, though, and regained all his lost memories. He also recalled a promise.

Back when Brother had just started his career as a State Alchemist, there had been an Ishbalan man, called Scar, killing State Alchemists. The serial killer had wanted revenge on State Alchemists for their part in the Ishbalan War of Extermination, and had begun to target any State Alchemist, especially, for some reason, Brother, The Fullmetal Alchemist.

Around that time, too, their faith in alchemy had been shaken. Shou Tucker, the man they had been boarding with before Brother's certification exam, had transmuted his daughter, the incredibly sweet four-year-old Nina, and his dog into a talking chimera. Once Brother had caught the man red handed, Brother's spirit nearly broke, and it almost destroyed Alphonse to see his brother like that. Then, before Brother could do anything to save their chimera friend, Scar had killed her.

Alphonse, Brother, and Scar had fought in the streets sometime after that. The Elrics had battled to stop Scar from killing again; Scar had simply wanted his revenge, taking it out on any State Alchemist. In that fight, Scar had nearly destroyed a third of Alphonse's armored body and all of Brother's automail arm. To Alphonse's horror, Brother had offered himself as the sacrificial lamb, submitting himself to be killed without a fight if Scar left his alchemist little brother alive.

And Alphonse had been powerless to stop their inhuman agreement.

Right before Scar could do it though, the boys had been saved, but Brother was not protected from Alphonse's rage. How could his brother bring him back from the gate, attach his soul to armor, and then offer to leave him all alone without a fight? Alphonse had made Brother swear that he would never give himself up like that again. They needed each other, and Brother had agreed.

Then, almost four years later, after all that had been given for Alphonse to live, he had decided it was his turn to pay the price. Before Scar's death, he had turned Alphonse into the forged Philosopher's Stone in Lior, and Brother had come to rescue him from the homunculi and their 'Master,' Dante.

In that battle of wills, it had been revealed that the homunculus Envy was actually his and Brother's eldest brother, Hohenheim's first son. Then in the next excruciating moment, Envy had killed Brother, and Alphonse had snapped. He had used himself, the Philosopher's Stone, to bring Brother back from the gate, alive and 100% whole, at the cost of Alphonse's own life.

Between that moment and the next, Envy had crossed through the gate (in the form of a dragon, if Alphonse could believe Brother), Dante had been eaten by Gluttony, and their friend/co-hostage Rose Thomas and her baby escaped with the recent double amputee, Wrath.

Brother swore that immediately after he had return from the gate, he too had transmuted himself to bring Alphonse back from the gate, only this time, it sent Brother to Germany and returned Alphonse to his 10-year-old body in Amestris. Alone. With no memory of their shared years searching the Stone.

How could Brother do that to him? How could Brother break that promise? After everything they had been through, after all the blood, sweat, tears, and memories, how could Brother just give it all up? When Alphonse had confronted Brother about it, Brother had said that he would do it again which only fueled Alphonse's anger instead of quieted it.

Why was Alphonse the only one who was not allowed to sacrifice? Why was Brother the one? Why? Didn't Brother understand that all Alphonse had wanted was to be with his brother?

True, Brother had pointed out, 'we're together now, and technically both of us have broken that pact,' but… but…

Alphonse didn't really know what was supposed to be on the other end of that thought. All he knew was that his brother had given up the gift Alphonse had given him, the return of his missing limbs and his very life.

Alphonse didn't know how to take the fact that Brother loved him so much that Brother would willingly and repeatedly give up his life for Alphonse. How was Alphonse supposed to pay back that debt? Maybe they were even on that score, like Brother had tried to convince him.

'Look, Al. You gave up your life for me first, and then I gave mine up for yours. We're _both idiots_ , alive, and together, so we're even, alright? Now let it go, damn it!'

Alphonse snorted. Maybe he should let this one go considering he had other things to feel guilty about.

'This had better work,' Alphonse thought to himself. If not, then they were well and truly stuck here for the rest of their lives. He continued to draw the powder white lines while his brother prepared the smaller array and the gruesome package they had brought with them, carting it along with them throughout Germany, adding to its gory contents weekly, or when not being chased by a determined and bloodthirsty Lieutenant Hess.

Shaking away the thought, he looked at his work. Alphonse considered the last time he created this circle and felt nauseated as his stomach flipped. He had thought he was just helping his brother come home, but he had also let in an invading army that had leveled Central, killing who knew how many innocent people, children, at the price of Gluttony and Wrath's lives.

He rested his haunches on his heels as he knelt on the scaffolding below the intricate array he was drawing on the ceiling. His guilt was fighting with his anger for control of his heart. How was he going to face all those lost souls if this worked? Talk about being unable to pay back a debt.

"Hey, Al. I'm all set over here. You almost done?" His brother called excitedly from below him in the center of another alchemic circle.

"Yes. I'm done," he resigned, stepping off and then pulling the scaffolding away, returning to the lower levels.

"Alright, Al. Now remember what I said?" Brother chimed when Alphonse met him on the ground floor. "This is going to work, I just know it, but when we get back, I'm sure they're going to want to know what happened. Did you memorize all the answers we agreed we'd give?" Brother placed his hand on Alphonse's shoulder.

"Yes, Ed. You don't have to remind me. I know what to do," Alphonse bit out in a frozen pose at the friendly touch.

"Ok, Al," Brother lamented, pulling his hand back as if Alphonse had hit him in his ashen face. "Do you have everything you want to take with you? 'Cause this is going to be a one-way trip!" Brother put on his false smile.

Alphonse hated that grin. It always meant that Brother was keeping something from him. It was the smile he wore when he had one of those pleasant dreams he didn't want to share with Alphonse, even if he hadn't had one in about a year. He wore it when he didn't want Alphonse to worry about something he was ashamed of or when he was pretending something awful didn't hurt him. Alphonse hated when Brother lied to him like that, as if he couldn't see right through it!

"Whatever, Ed; just do it," he said, calling his brother by name to let him know just how angry he was that his older brother had cornered him with this asinine plan, a plan that was as sure to kill them as to get them home.

"Alright, Al, here we go!" Brother yelled as he pulled a ripcord attached to the revolting glass container they had been lugging around for a year. Its deep crimson contents sloshed as they were released, spilling the yearlong cache of Brother's blood and anticoagulants just as Brother reached out and sliced his flesh palm with a knife. He threw down his bleeding hand to the activation array that would catalyze the circle Alphonse had drawn on the ceiling, the one they hoped would lead them to Central and close firmly behind them, destroying all alchemic evidence of their travels. If Alphonse wasn't so angry he might have been impressed.

Blue streaks of power from the functional focal array climbed into the air, crackling towards their destination. The sketched edges and lines Brother had constructed were rising off the floor, like wraith ribbons made solid, leaving no trace of his alchemy behind. Sharp static collected the raining blood fee and fed it into the arterial array above them just before a purple undulating circle throbbed into existence replacing the chalked design Alphonse had place there.

It's rolling maw pulled at them. They reached out and grab one another's hand, as agreed. Alphonse noticed, though, that Brother did not let go of the blade he held, as they had planned. He looked to his brother's worn tan face questioningly. Brother's golden eyes were looking straight at the floating ethereal amethyst sea of cloudy fabric as it towed them upwards. There was a huge smile on his pale face as he looked over at Alphonse.

A ghost of a conversation he'd had with Brother at the beginning of the cockamamie plan floated through Alphonse's mind about the intent behind the person paying the price to traverse between worlds.

"You're right; I don't like it. Putting aside that this is a monumentally bad plan, I still don't get how it would work," Alphonse had told his brother a year ago. "If your right, and blood from our side can open the door, how do we control where it opens or who can travel through it, you know, without it killing us?"

"Well, I think the location of the array here dictates where it'll open up at. The first one I bled on was on the floor and that led to Lior, but the one on the ceiling opened below Central. So that should be easy to replicate. As far as who goes through unharmed… Hohenheim intended to only let his son travel to the other side of the gate, so I was able to go without being covered in the black goo that enveloped that fucker, Eckhart, and her troops. When you came through from Amestris, it recognized you as Hohenheim's son, so you were able to escape being covered, too," Brother had explained.

"So my intent should influence how the gate responds?" Alphonse had questioned.

"No. It shouldn't," Brother had sounded nonchalant, but cagey.

"And why not?" Alphonse had demanded indignantly. "Doesn't what I want matter?"

"Because we already know it responds to my blood, and adding in yours exponentially increases unknown variables, we're going to only use mine. We'll draw my blood periodically, add in the new citrate anticoagulant method from that Edward William Archibald guy's article, and when we have the volume of blood equivalent to that of a full grown man, we'll open the door."

"But, wouldn't that take…" Alphonse did some quick mental math for the genius he was, "almost a year, and that's assuming it doesn't make you anemic. If, hypothetically, we're doing this ludicrous plan, why not draw blood from both of us and cut down the time? We're both Amestrian," he reasoned.

"I'm the only one paying the price, Al," Brother had said with conviction, "and that's final."

Alphonse's irritation at the memory flickered as he felt his feet rising off the ground now with the pull of the portal, just like one a few years ago in Lior. He couldn't resist his forward motion, but his angry resolve wavered. Brother's plan was working. They were going home. They'd spent a year drawing Ed's blood, mixing in anticoagulants, lugging the concoction around, keeping it safe through fast chases, jumping trains, and gun shots. Brother had paid the price and now they were going home! Alphonse turned to the right and smiled at his brother for the first time in ages as they were sucked into the air just below the gate.

They sped faster towards the portal four stories up, but, looking back at the swirling gate, something was wrong. It was a darker purple than before, and Alphonse was beginning to worry. Then without warning, the rippling heliotrope hue began to swell angrily.

'Here it comes,' Alphonse resigned himself calmly around his exasperated sigh. He had died this way before, as a child trying to bring their mother back. He'd been killed by his brother's array, another one that he'd been against in the first place. He could feel the malice of the inky black calling to his tired soul.

Before he could panic at the agonizing memory of being ripped apart, a glint of light caught his eye. He turned to see Brother's knife cutting through the air. Brother quickly dragged the knife in his automail hand along the full length of his left coat sleeve, up into his arm, and let his blood flow down to the hands they had intertwined.

"Brother, no! What are you doing?!" Alphonse shrieked in horror and disbelief as they sped to the gleaming gateway.

"It wasn't enough, Al. I have to give it more to get you home," Brother said so low Alphonse wasn't sure that's what he'd said as the portal engulfed them in darkness, closing with a sharp, irrevocable clap.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> So, another longish chapter, but I love this one, too! What did you think of Ed's plan? In figuring out the rules for the universe I was going to use, it stuck me that the worlds are almost stacked on top of each other, only one is upside-down; the higher the German portal, the lower the Amestrian one - like how the German ceiling array is 4 stories up but opens deep under ground below Central. Oh, and if you were wondering, about the blood calculations, I originally did them for Ed's height/weight without automail, because obviously automail doesn't contain blood. You can check them out below. These were really interesting to figure out, even if morbidly. I flubbed how much time it would take to collect the total amount needed, but whatever. It's my story. Hahahaha!
> 
> Also, according to Wikipedia (and we all know how reliable that is…), Edward William Archibald was a well-known doctor who collaborated with the originator of blood transfusions, Canadian Lieutenant Lawrence Bruce Robertson of the Royal Army Medical Corps, to convince the British authorities during WWI of the value of blood transfusions. Edward William Archibald's method allowed blood to be stored using anticoagulants. I imagined that Ed would have picked up some medical journals in his spare time, you know Ed and his insatiable love of knowledge, while trying to deal without his automail before the German assault on Central Amestris, and he'd later think 'hey I could use this to get home, but Al is going to hate it…'
> 
> Calculations for Ed's height/weight/blood volume:
> 
> If Ed is 5'2" and muscular, he would weigh about 120 lbs with human limbs, without them, he would weigh…
> 
> If an arm is 5.3% of total body weight and a leg is 17.5% of body weight, then the he would be missing 6.36 lbs for his arm and 21 lbs for his leg (if it was his whole leg, which it isn't).
> 
> Since his leg is amputated above the knee at around mid-thigh, I added in extra weight, so instead of 17.5% of his body weight lost to a leg, I estimate 75% of 17.5% to be 13.125% weight lost due to his missing leg.
> 
> So if he is missing 5.3% + 13.125% (6.36 lbs + 15.75 lbs = 22.11 lbs) of the average body weight for a muscle build 5'2" tall man, he would weigh…
> 
> … 97.89 lbs. (44.40 kg) without the automail and ports.
> 
> So the most blood he can give at a time is…
> 
> If he weighs 97.89 lbs…
> 
> 150lbs/4.7 liters = 97.89 lbs/x liters = (97.89*4.7)/150 = 3.07 liters
> 
> …he must have 3.07 liters of blood, or 3070mL.
> 
> So, if he draws 2.5% (76.75 mL) at once or max drawn in 30 days (44/x = 45/180 x=(44*180)/45 = 176mL), so the most he can draw in a month is …
> 
> …176mL/month
> 
> So it would take him (3070/176=) 17.44 months (1yr 5mos 14 days) to prepare enough for his own height/weight.


	22. Chapter 22

***Some Homecoming***

Central, Amestris, December 1920

Brrriiiing!

Roy woke up slowly. Sleep fully grasping onto his droopy eyelids trying to pull his warm, heavy body back down.

Brrriiiing!

He rolled over and glanced at the clock in the moonlight, while reaching for the phone by his bedside.

Brrriiiing!

"This is Mustang," he intoned with as much authority as he could half asleep at 2:37 AM. No one who knew this number would be calling without an _excellent_ reason.

"Sir," Hawkeye beseeched a little too emphatically, catching his attention. "We need you to come in. It's the Elrics."

* * *

"Report," Roy said as he entered his busy office twenty minutes later. He was met by his entire support staff's salute. It seemed like all of Central Command was up and running around the building. He saluted back quickly.

"Sir," Hawkeye answered, "at 2:16 AM our patrol squad in the Forgotten City called in. They had felt a small earthquake, and went to investigate the epicenter. However, all they found in the abandoned city's square were two unconscious blond men in rough shape. One has short hair and is in his late teens. The other young man has a long gold ponytail, an automail right arm and left leg, and an elongated laceration to his left arm. They are on their way to Central General Hospital; it was the closest one to their location. Their condition is as yet unknown."

"Hawkeye," Roy began, sorting priorities in his head as he began to give orders, "get me Fullmetal's official personnel file. Havoc, get the car. Breda, contain all information. We are on intel lockdown. Also, find out anything you can about this earthquake and those reported two years ago, both here and in Lior. We will need a public story soon.

"Falman, secure the facility. No one in or out that doesn't have a reason to be in their wing at Central Gen. There should be no access to the Elrics except for their doctors, nurses and us," he ordered as he walked through the exterior office to his own. The phone began to ring, and Hawkeye answered it while the rest of the team followed him; he used his sureness to steady their excitement and curiosity.

"If any of the higher-ups' staff want to see either of the two men, send them to me. If any general wants to see them, notify me immediately. Fuery, keep those radios secure. Kill any outbound transmission that is not authorized. I do not want the Elrics to be bombarded with press until we can get an official story. Work with Breda on containment. Once we know more, they will be moved to a secure facility, but let's get them conscious and stable first," Roy commanded.

He pulled out Fullmetal's 'Top Secret' file from an alchemically locked drawer that was not nearly that big a few seconds ago. It held the paperwork for the promotion Grumman had given the young man and the 'assignment' orders he himself had written up for his missing officer after he realized his lucid dreams were interdimensional communique.

"Sir, what should we do about Brigadier General Fairchild and Lieutenant General Raven?" Hawkeye questioned as she entered the room after hanging up the phone. "Apparently, they are on their way here."

Roy took a moment to consider that development.

"Well, it makes sense that Intelligence and Defense would want to be in the know," Havoc remarked of the department heads to fill the silence as he turned to face the woman's stern voice.

"Aren't we in Lieutenant General Raven's chain of command?" Breda asked absently as he considered the facts, readying to spin the facts in their favor.

"Yes, we are," Hawkeye answered the rotund redhead then turned back to Roy, "but we have little information to give them at this time, sir. What more could we tell them?"

He met her eyes, then adjusted his plan.

"Hawkeye, with me. Havoc, take the lead until Hawkeye and I can get there. Have Armstrong ID whether John Doe is Alphonse or not; he's seen the Elric's childhood photos, and should be able to tell. Falman, add Armstrong, Ross, and Brosh to the list of those allowed access," he reprioritized. "You have your orders; see that they are done," he said. "I hope you all got enough sleep because I'm sure it's going to be a very long day. Dismissed."

"Sir," they all snapped a single sharp salute then scattered in double time to complete their tasks with about a minute to spare before the visiting generals arrived. They seemed in a bigger rush than his staff, which was disconcerting. Hawkeye led them into Roy's office and closed the door behind them.

"Lieutenant General Raven, Brigadier General Fairchild, come in," Roy welcomed, indicating seats around the conference table near the door to his inner office. Hawkeye placed coffee in front of each of the three generals.

"Let me be clear, Brigadier General Mustang," Raven bowled over the welcome without sitting or taking the offered drink, "I want to know if another invading army has come through that portal again. Wasn't it destroyed two years ago?"

"Sir, I myself closed the gate between worlds on this side while Lieutenant Colonel Elric and his younger brother, Alphonse, closed it on the other."

"Lieutenant Colonel Elric?" Raven raised an eye, demanding clarification.

"Yes, sir, the Fullmetal Alchemist," Roy confirmed, handing over the paperwork. "Führer Grumman ordered the promotion himself after clearing him of all accusations of deserting before Bradley's death." Raven reviewed the official orders while Roy continued his briefing. "There does not seem to be any known portals still open let alone an invading army. My team is working to discover any connection to the events of two years ago. It is apparent that two unidentified men were found in the Forgotten City. We are securing them as we speak. The patrol guarding the site is under my command, and reported their findings up the chain."

"Good," nodded Raven, handing back the orders. He seemed more relaxed after hearing Roy's report. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip.

"Is the previous point of entry the same location where the men were found earlier this morning?" Fairchild asked. "The description of one of the men meets that of Fullmetal, but the other is suspect. By accounts, Alphonse Elric was thirteen two years ago, but his age according to records indicates that he would be 19 now, not 15. Please explain."

"Yes, Brigadier General Fairchild, it is the same relative location as before." Roy calmly answered as the Lieutenant General watched the exchange over the rim of his mug. "As for the Elrics' Resembool records, the township where they were born has poorly cared for archives. If we are presuming one of the men found is Fullmetal, then it would be my bet that the other man is Alphonse Elric. We will need to confirm his identity of course, but in my experience, those two would do all they could to stay together."

Roy sidestepped the odd nature of Alphonse Elric's chronological age, and he hoped the Intelligence officer would not debate his statements further. He knew the brothers would have some explaining to do, but Fairchild was asking about things that should stay in the dark.

"Very well, Brigadier General Mustang," Raven concluded, finishing his coffee, obviously satisfied that another invasion was not imminent as well as with Roy's explanations and assessments of events. "Alert me immediately if anything changes in regards to any possible breaches. My men will be working with yours on the ground to secure the Forgotten City, just in case. I'd rather error on the side of caution than be caught flat footed again."

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant General Raven, sir," Roy saluted as the man left. Turning to Fairchild, he inquired, "Is there anything else I can help Intelligence on?"

"I want to be involved in this at every step, Brigadier General. You know Hakuro is going to grill us both on this. Best to have matching stories," he colluded tapping his nose as he met Roy's eye.

"Very well, then. Hawkeye, get the car," Roy replied and finished his own coffee as he wondered how much Fairchild already knew.

As the generals walked to the front of the building to meet Hawkeye, their calm composed exteriors seemed to sooth those around them. They would have to find the breach in information. There were too many people who knew about a possible invasion and/or return of the Elrics outside of the chain of command for his liking.

In the predawn hours on the front step, neither man said anything as they waited for the car. On the way to the hospital, however, Fairchild decided to share his insights into the case.

"You know, you might want to consider that with Fullmetal's potential, he might have been an asset to another department. Office politics never seemed his style, though."

"Do you know Fullmetal?" Roy asked.

"Only from reputation. I was a Colonel back then, but I was Brigadier General Hughes' CO, before he was promoted." Roy felt his heart squeeze at the name of his dead best friend and the circumstances of Maes' death, yet Fairchild continued seemingly unaware. "He respected the boy and always helped him where he could. I asked Maes once how he knew the kid, and he told me that Edward Elric had saved his life and Hakuro's during some terrorist attempt on a train." Fairchild chuckled and shook his head. "Was the kid really as much of a pit viper as they say or as smart?"

"Fullmetal is an alchemical prodigy and a fine field operative. He has saved this country multiple times. He does have just as nasty a bite as his bark, though, so you might want to watch it," Roy confided with a smug smirk, catching himself feeling fondness for the man in his waking dreams, skillfully hiding his response behind his professional mask. He redirected the conversation. "Why do you keep referring to him in the past tense?"

"Oh, did I?" Fairchild asked with a glint to his eye.

"Brigadier General Fairchild…" Roy began, but was cut off.

"Oh just call me 'Jack,' Roy. Saves the mouth full, don't you think?" Jack reasoned with a smile, turning to face Roy in the back seat of the car and tapped his shoulder.

"Jack, then. What do you hope to get out of investigating the Elrics?" Roy probed, dropping the question like it was not an accusation but asked with friendly interest.

"Well, since you asked outright, I'll tell you," Jack confessed with a smile, lowering his hand and losing any levity in his voice. "Besides the fact that it is my job to know what is going on in and out of this country, I find that the name 'Fullmetal' still raises quite a few high ranking hackles.

"Sure the people loved him, but what did he do to piss off the brass? He even has quiet the loyal base in the military. Such a person of interest should be watched. If his alchemic skill is as grandiose as he was made out to be, then his talents could get him into trouble," Jack articulated.

"Well, that has always been the case," Roy murmured under his breath as they pulled up to the hospital. Roy himself had often thought of Fullmetal as a magnet for trouble.

"If he were in my department, I could look after him, like Hughes did," Jack said quietly.

That last comment made Roy think that Jack might be a good ally or a great advisory, but he'd have to consider the overly friendly man some more later. Fairchild was a keen man and might prove difficult to deal with if he dug too deeply in the right places. It did help that he thought Hughes was a good man, but few would say otherwise.

Havoc was waiting on the curb and opened Roy's door as soon as Hawkeye stopped the car's forward motion.

"Catch up as soon as you park, Lieutenant," Roy ordered Hawkeye as he exited the backseat with Jack close behind. "Report, Havoc," he commanded, stepping onto the curb and walking into the building.

"Sir," Havoc said as he guided them into the elevator, "the boss is recovering from blood loss and anemia. His arm has already been stitched up with about 60 sutures, but is otherwise unharmed. The other man they found with him resembles him, but no one has been able to make a clear identification. Both are still unconscious. Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong is on his way in from his family estate. Either you or the Lieutenant Colonel are the best hope we have to identify John Doe," Havoc replied in a professional manner, but his smile was undeniable.

"So, it's been confirmed then that it is Fullmetal?" Roy spoke, hiding his delight.

Havoc nodded with a gleam in his eyes.

"Then lead the way, Lieutenant Havoc. Brigadier General Fairchild here will be involved at every point from here on in. Make sure that the team is informed," he told his third in command, but gave him the look that meant the team needed to be on their toes.

Havoc nodded his acknowledgment.

As they made their way, Roy noticed the heightened security and was glad his team had been so efficient. He'd have to reevaluate upcoming promotions. Jack and Roy followed Havoc to a guarded room where Falman met them.

"Sir, there has been no change in status, but the doctor says he wants to keep Lieutenant Colonel Elric sedated for a while until he regains some color. If they had found him or gotten him here any later, he would not have made it. It seems he has lost a lot of blood, but he is stable now. They are giving him a blood transfusion," Falman formally explained as he stood to the side of the window in the door.

"How soon can we move him to a more secure location?" Roy asked without looking through the glass. He wanted to be alone with Fullmetal when he saw him, not under Fairchild's astute eyes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Elric will be ready to move as soon as he wakes up on his own, sir," Falman concluded.

"Good," Roy declared, but turned to Jack to give him an opportunity to ask any questions. Fairchild just smiled and waved him off. "Where is John Doe, Lieutenant Havoc?" Roy quizzed turning his attention back to his subordinate.

If it wasn't for Jack being there, the team could have all spoken more concisely, without all the wordy titles, but they were being watched. They'd have to dot their i's and cross their t's with a fine tooth comb and give no one any reason to give them a hard time, especially since Hakuro would be expecting a report on these events. Roy would have known his commander would want an account of the situation, even without Jack's friendly reminder to keep the same story between Internal and Intelligence, both of which fell under Hakuro's purview.

Havoc led Roy and Jack to the room around the corner. The guards posted there stepped aside as they approached.

"What is the status of this man, Private Chase?" Roy queried the man to the right.

"Sir," Chase stood straighter and responded, "John Doe appears to be unconscious for unknown reasons. Besides that, he appears to be a healthy young man in his late teens or early twenties."

Roy schooled his face for whoever this man was as he stepped up to the window.

"Is he under medication? Can he be moved?" Roy asked trying to see if he could judge from here if Alphonse Elric was on the other side of the door.

"Sir, the doctors want to give him a sedative until they can assess why he is unconscious," Chase said with distrust in his voice. "They made no comment about moving him."

"Have all medical staff direct their questions on care for both Fullmetal and this man to me," he ordered as he opened the door. "I want to speak with their doctors as soon as possible," he stated as he entered the room. His pleasant new shadow followed him.

Roy walked up to the edge of the bed and within a second recognized the strong jaw and blond hair. He wore it short like he had in the childhood photos that littered the Rockbell home; it was unlike the long ponytail that mimicked his older brother's that Roy had last seen him wearing two years ago. He had no doubt this was Alphonse Elric, but it was going to be difficult to explain that this man was the same that Ed had returned to his body four years younger.

In fact, it seemed as though this young man was the appropriate age Alphonse would be based on his birth certificate instead of the age he had been two years ago. Roy couldn't wait to hear the story behind this transformation, but he was going to have to stall Fairchild and anyone else until they could all get their stories straight. However, Roy knew that his brief assessment of Alphonse let Jack know it was indeed the younger Elric.

Roy and Jack left Alphonse's room without a word and reentered the hallway. Roy caught Havoc's eye and nodded slightly. Havoc would let the team know it was complete again. Falman was waiting with a doctor when they all heard clanging coming from Fullmetal's room.

"Damn it! I said get the fuck off me!" A familiar, but hoarse, voice came sailing into the hall.

Roy gave an exasperated sigh and made his way to Fullmetal's room trailed by a perplexed Jack and Alphonse's frazzled doctor. The medical staff, including another doctor, a nurse, and two orderlies were trying to strong arm their patient into submission, and they were losing.

Roy laughed at the commotion, and the room went still.

"That you, Bastard?" called a rough and weak voice over the backs of his caregivers, but a smile could be heard in it.

"It's nice of you to _drop in_ , Fullmetal," Roy teased waving the medical staff out of the room. They nervously drifted out, but the doctor made eye contact with Roy.

"He needs another liter of blood, but was refusing care," the mousy man said defensively. "Don't upset him."

"Don't upset him," Roy repeated and crossed his arms. He was amused, seeing as the doctor had done the aggravating and Roy the pacifying; it was comical.

"Yes, well… keep him calm then," the flustered doctor corrected.

"Alright. I'll talk with him, but I should warn you, Fullmetal is the worst patient," Roy chuckled again as he crossed the threshold into the room.

"Some homecoming," Fullmetal's tired voice said sarcastically, but an honest and happy smile met Roy's entrance, nearly rendering the older man breathless. The grin disappeared as quickly as it had shown itself as an interested Fairchild made to follow Roy; however, the man had enough smarts to stop when Fullmetal raised his eyebrow above wide honey eyes. "Nuh-uh. Nuh. Jus' Mus'ang," Ed slurred, evidence of his fatigue and probable grogginess due to his blood loss and recent scuffle.

"That's fine. I'll update my men on the situation here," Jack relented easily with his hands up, as if surrendering. That felt too easy, but now was not the time to be thinking about it. Roy'd deal with Fairchild later.

"Havoc, find Hawkeye and plan for evac to Command's medical facility. I have a feeling we are going to need it now that the whole floor knows who's here," Roy ordered calmly over his shoulder and smirking at his newly returned officer.

"Sure thing, Chief. Nice to see you're back again, Boss," Havoc welcomed as he reached in the doorway to grab hold of the handle.

"Nice ta be back, Havoc," Ed smiled as the door closed with his friend's beaming face in the window. Turning to Mustang with concern, he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut-off.

"Alphonse is unconscious in the next room, but in good order. He's fine, Fullmetal," Roy promised as he sat down in the barely cushioned chair next to the left side of the bed.

"Ya sure?" The golden blond pushed.

"Yes. So lay back down and rest. You don't want to tear your stitches do you?" Roy teased.

"Yeah, ok," Ed gave in with fog in his eyes and flopped back down, his energy reserves obviously waning. "He's really fine though? Just asleep?" The tone of hope was overwhelming.

"It seems you have some more explaining to do, Fullmetal," Roy began with a raised eyebrow but relented, smirking without any bite. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would have had a support team ready for any eventuality. I haven't heard from you in a year."

"Tried to dream ya. I di', bu' couldn' make i' last," the blond explained in a hoarse voice.

Roy nodded his agreement. He had tried to contact Fullmetal with the same results for the past year. All he had seen were glances of the white of his mock office then he'd wake up.

"I'd only ge' a flash o' you for a sec'nd 'fore the mist woul' come," the younger man continued, slurring heavily, catching Roy's agreement, "bu' couldn' figure ou' wha' else ta do." Fullmetal was slurring again. "We couldn' wai' an' long'r. Was gettin' dan'erous there."

"What do you mean dangerous?" Roy had been nodding his understanding, but was completely serious now, putting his elbows on his knees and his linked hands in front of his lips.

"Poli'ical clima'e there's strain'd an' tha ga'e had showed us a vision of a bomb goin' off killin' millio's 'o people. We though' i' was the uranium bomb I tol' ya 'bout, bu' Al an' I sorted tha' ou', so some'ne else mus'a ha' the same idea as Huskisson." Ed huffed, "Dam' fools."

"Do they pose a threat to Amestris? Are they planning to come through again?" Roy interrogated Fullmetal, in full Brigadier General mode.

"Nah. S'only one man's still 'live who knows how ta open the ga'e, an' even if he wan'ed ta open i', he woul'n' be able ta do i' now. No'ne else's gonna come through. We're tha las'," he concluded dizzily as his head lulled to the side to get a look at Roy. Damn the man looked better in person, even if he was slurring and a little too pale.

"Glad to hear it, Fullmetal," Roy grinned a genuine smile of relief. "So how did you and your brother get Alphonse to age like that?" the young alchemist made a blank face, and Roy knew he had no idea what Roy was saying. "Fullmetal," Roy explained calmly leaning forward placing his hand on a tanned one, "your brother looks his chronological age."

"What?! He does? Wait, wha's tha month and year here?" Fullmetal asked more articulately, awake again for the moment.

"January 1920," Roy toned with confusion. Were the worlds not linked to the same year, or was time kept differently there? He wanted to ask these questions and more, but Fullmetal was in no shape to answer.

"Tha' means tha' Al shoul' be… 19 bu'… he shoul' look 15," Fullmetal reasoned. "He looks 19? Ya sure?" He doubted it, but seemed to trusted Roy's assessment, losing some of his clear speech.

Roy nodded his confirmation.

"How'n tha hell di' tha' happ'n?" Fullmetal pulled his hand out of Roy's without either realizing he'd been holding it until the touch was lost. Nervously, the young man crossed his arms, one metal and one flesh attached to an IV, and tried to focus. He put a hand to his chin as he tried desperately to do some heavy thinking on a lack of blood, Roy could just tell. "Has ta be…" Fullmetal muttered to himself after a moment of deep thought.

"Fullmetal…" Roy coaxed, trying to get his attention.

-888-

"Has ta be. Mustang, i' has ta be tha' damn ga'e. When we op'ned tha por'al," Ed struggled to seem coherent, "tha price we pai' wasn' 'nough and i' wan'ed more, so I gave i' all tha blood I coul'. Near'y cu' m' arm off doin' i'," he stretched out his stitched arm to emphasize his point, "bu' I didn' thin' it'd take somefin' more from 'im… Naw ag'in," he nearly cried. "Iz he alrigh'? Does he remem'er anythin'?" he pleaded reaching out to Mustang with his flesh hand.

Ed needed to know if his little brother was going to hate him for the rest of his life. If it was anything like this last year, then maybe they should've just stayed in Germany. Ed hung his head. No, he had gotten his brother home, but he hadn't foreseen this additional price.

He was getting woozy and nauseous. His head jolted up then lulled again. It was heavy with fog and the room kept spinning. He pulled it up again, only to have it drop once more.

"It's ok, Fullmetal. You're home," Mustang squeezed Ed's hand, seemingly as much to comfort Ed as to reassure himself that the young alchemist was really here. "Rest now, and we'll talk later. I'll tell everyone that Alphonse is 19, just like his records show. Don't talk to anyone but me or the team, though, until we have a working narrative."

"Yeah, s'ok," Ed got out before his head fell back one last time. After his eye closed, however, he startled awake. "Gen'ral!"

"I'm right here, Fullmetal," Mustang said squeezing Ed's hand and touching his flesh shoulder to reassure him. Ed smiled a relieved grin.

"Hide m' no'ebook... 's 'n… pa-n' po-cke'. Letters… s'ok… they're 'n… ja-cke' po-cke'," Ed made out with a smile as his eyes finally closed, turning his head and resting it against the General's hand on his shoulder. He was out.

-888-

Roy stood and surveyed the room. There were no pants and no jacket. Come to think of it, there were no personal affects anywhere. With one last look at the handsome resting blond, Roy freed his hand and brushed his knuckles against a pale cheek. Roy left Fullmetal there to be guarded as he went in search of a nurse.

When he got a young giggling nurse to give him the brothers' personal clothing and any items found on them, he instinctively sought out Fullmetal's room as a quiet, secured place to investigate his Lieutenant Colonel's last message.

Inside the pant pocket of one pair of brown trousers was a worn leather notebook with Fullmetal's writing. It looked like the same pocket sized notebook the young alchemist had always carried on him. None of it made any sense of course; it was all highly encrypted, just like any alchemic text. Roy placed it in his own pocket for safe keeping without hesitation.

In the pockets of the brown coat Roy had seen Fullmetal wearing during their joint visions, he found two folded up envelopes. One thin letter was addressed to 'Winry Rockbell,' and the other thicker one was to Roy. At least he thought it was; he was pretty sure there wasn't another 'General Bastard' to which Fullmetal would write something.

As he opened it, he became nervous. He had no idea what it would say or what to expect. It was a thick, sealed, white envelope with 'General Bastard' written on the front in Fullmetal's distinctive scrawl. Inside, Roy found three sets of folded papers.

The first was a hand written list of chemical reactions that resulted in fire or combustion. It had base components, catalyst molecules, and their reactions, but the more Roy looked at it, the more it seemed like a coded message. He just needed the key to unlock it.

Next came the longest of the three items. This one had entries like a diary that told of Alphonse, his cat, and the antics they had gotten into. Again, it screamed coded message, but he needed to find the cipher.

Lastly, came a more personal note. This one read:

_General Bastard,_

_Hopefully you are reading this and not some fucking nosey prick from Intel. That's right, I called you NOSEY. Anyways, if you are reading this, then we made it home. I have been laying here awake for hours the night before we attempt to come home, and all I can think about is what I said the time before last. I know you know what I said, you bastard, so don't pretend you don't remember. Well, we have to finish that conversation in person; otherwise, I think it will gnaw at each of us._

_Ed_

_P.S. It was worth it though, just to say it._

So he wanted to talk about it after all. Roy had figured Fullmetal would plant his head in the sand and pretend it never happened. He wished he knew if Fullmetal was going to discuss their dreams in his official debriefing. Roy flipped over the page, and found it blank. Alright Fullmetal, what would you do if you figured these were going to be read by others? What would you encode, and what would you use to decode the encryption?

He looked over the personal letter once more and smiled. People in Intelligence were 'NOSEY' indeed. He pulled out the pad of paper and pen from the bedside table, set up his Vigenère square*, and began the process of cracking the code Fullmetal had given him.

An hour later, when Hawkeye came to check in on him, he was smiling. Turns out the first note of chemical reactions was a list of brass who had sexually harassed or tried to blackmail Fullmetal along with the dates, just like Roy had demanded. The diary was instead a list of all the questions the brothers were ready to answer along with their practiced responses followed by what really happened.

Edward Elric had planned for this, and he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> *A Vigenère square is used to encrypt a message; the top and left side form a grid. A-Z go along the top and then A-Z go down the left side; the next row starts with B-Z with A at the end of the row. Subsequent rows follow the same pattern until the grid is filled in. It is easier to just google an image of this than have me explain what it looks like.
> 
> Using the letters of a key word repeated for however long your message is (along the top of the square) and the plain text (your message) letters (down the side of the square), find where they overlap and use that letter as the encrypted letter. So it should be (key-row, message-column).
> 
> For example, if the key is NOSEY and the message is GENERAL, to encrypt this, find in the square were the N column meets the G row, in this case T. To decrypt it, use the encrypted letter and the key letter (along the top) to find the missing row to get the original text letter (down the side).
> 
> So, to decrypt this, we have the key NOSEY and the encrypted letter G, so when we go to column N (at the top) and find T (letter in the square) then follow the row back to find G (down the side). If you want to give it a try, send me a message with the encrypted code for the word 'GENERAL'! =)
> 
> UPDATE: Even though the cypher is usually short, the letters are used in an infinite loop until you reach the end of the plain text message. So even though NOSEY is five letters and GENERAL is seven, you would use NOSEYNO to encode or decode the word GENERAL. So if you were to encode/decode GENERALBASTARD you would use NOSEYNOSEYNOSE.


	23. Chapter 23

***Questions***

Central, Amestris, January 1920

Two weeks after the Elric brothers' miraculous return and their release this morning into military custody from an obsessively guarded secret medical facility, Gordon sat in his seat at the head of the command table for the official debriefing. Secrecy was high, so much so that Gordon was surprised no leaks had been made. A giddy excitement that he only allowed to shine in his eyes was hidden behind his political face. It ran through him as the tension in the room built with each tick of the clock.

Gordon was glad he had gotten a light lunch to settle his jubilant stomach between this morning's meeting and what was sure to be an interesting afternoon session. Alphonse Elric's short debriefing had gone smoothly earlier that day without any missteps, leaving most of the more sensitive questions for his older brother to answer. 'My brother will be able to answer that more accurately,' he had said. Well, they were about to find out.

This afternoon's meeting would prove more insightful, as Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric had gone MIA still under his military contract, so they still owned him, as it were. Gordon was just as interested to hear what Fullmetal had to say as the rest of the Generals. In fact, anyone in Central with a rank of Brigadier General or higher was here, all 14 of them*.

He was glad the press had yet to accurately deduce what the military mobilization scare was a fortnight ago or the reason for this Council of Generals conference. Laughable speculations ran rampant regardless of what the official story claimed. The rumor mill spanned the gambit from Führer Bradley's return to Leitoists claiming their 'god' was going to cleanse the city of its corruption with his light. However, Gordon had little hope that the State sanctioned statement would seem to hold water by the end of the week, if not sooner, even if the quite accurate account of events, declaring that the false alarm was triggered by tectonic activity, was minus a few key points.

Gordon banged his gavel, calling the chittering chamber to attention. Its noise echoed around the vast oval room. The high two-story ceiling, sweeping windowless walls, and tall carved pillars reverberated the noise of his ceremonial hammer throughout the white space. At the noise, the Generals took their seats at the domineering table. Its shape was drawn at a sharp 30 degrees, like the strict military cut of Amestrian Blues. As the Generals settled, Gordon was left standing at the imposing partition's apex.

"Order," he called over his own thumping as mumbled conversations ended. "I, Führer Gordon Grumman, now call to order this meeting of the Council of Generals in order to debrief one Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, otherwise known as the Fullmetal Alchemist, otherwise known as the Hero of the People. The chamber will come to order. The secretary will please note the time is now 1:01 PM on Monday, January 26th, 1920. All matters discussed herein will be classified as Top Secret on penalty of treason, punishable by death." He finally took his seat, getting comfortable for the long afternoon ahead of them. "Will the before mentioned Fullmetal Alchemist please rise and be recognized by this council?"

-o-

Ed stood confidently and walked to the tiled circle before the high Brass of Amestris. He saluted as procedure dictated, secretly glad Mustang had briefed him on the protocol and who's-who in this stilting room of Brass.

"At ease, Mr. Elric," Grumman ordered and indicated for Ed to sit at the table in front of him. The leader of Amestris sported grey hair and a pointy mustache, just as he had years ago at Eastern Command years ago while Ed was stationed there; every hair was in place with strict military precision. Steady eyes followed Ed's movements through half rimmed circular glasses, as if the bifocals allowed the old man to see through any bullshit to the heart of the truth.

Ed took his seat, throwing off his discomfort at being watched in minute detail. He presented himself in an unassuming brown suit with his hair tied high on the back of his head. His new white gloves were crisp against the boring table.

"Mr. Elric, you have been summoned here to give an account of your whereabouts and actions over the past four and a half years. Members of the council will ask questions to which you will give the most direct and honest answers possible. Do you understand?" Grumman toned over the room with utmost authority without giving away his thoughts.

"Sir, yes, sir, your Excellency," Ed responded sharply, playing the role of dutiful soldier, almost to a comically sycophantic level, if he did say so himself. He held back a grin at the thought; it probably wouldn't go over well if he was a snarky shit to the highest ranking members of Central's command structure.

"Good, now let's begin with where you have been, and hang the 'sir' for now," Grumman said conversationally, laughter playing in his eyes, as if they were the only two in the room and sharing an unknown joke. It was like he was deciding to take a different approach; it felt like the old man was trying to put him at ease.

Ed nodded in acknowledgment. What he wanted to cheekily say was, 'Easy. I was in a parallel dimension with a divergent timeline. You know, the place where those rocket powered airships and goo covered soldiers that invaded Central and Lior came from? Yeah, there.' What he actually told them was:

"I was on the other side of the gate in a country known as Germany." He crossed his right hand over his left as he spoke, miming for effect.

"What is 'the gate'?" Brigadier General Fairchild from Intelligence inquired, looking up from the notes he was studiously taking.

"It's hard to explain," Ed wavered then paused to give the illusion that he needed time to think. He had his answers already memorized, had for months. "The gate acts as a conduit between worlds, but it is more than that. It can behave like a container as well. It's like limbo, I guess. No, more like a river. It's more natural to pass through it or on it than to stand in the middle of it."

"How did you come to be in this 'Germany'?" Brigadier General McDonnell, head of transportation, asked. His plastic political face did not give away his interest, but his voice and eyes did. Ed imagined he could see the wheels turning in the man's head at the prospect of interdimensional travel.

Ed wanted to say, 'Dante, a four-hundred-year old body jumping alchemist, sent my body to the gate using human transmutation on my friend Rose's baby while my mind and soul ended up in London, England in my doppelganger's body. When that boy died, I ended up back on this side. After that my older half-brother Envy, a homunculus created by my father, killed me, sending my soul and mind back to the gate.

'Before I could cross over, however, my younger brother Al, who was a suit of armor I bonded his soul to and was then made into a philosopher's stone by the serial killer Scar, sacrificed himself to bring together my mind, soul, body and missing limbs back from the gate, making me whole and alive again. Or did you mean when I transmuted myself to bring Al back, and the gate took me to the other side and took my returned limbs as payment, only this time sending me to Germany?'

But they didn't need to know all that.

"The first time I was sent through the gate," Ed said while pressing his fingertips to the desktop and arching his hands, sliding his left hand forward on the desk and articulated a safer version of the truth, "a desperate alchemist performed a transmutation resulting in my exile for two and a half years. During that time, I uncovered a plot to invade Amestris. I came back to this world," Ed slid his left hand backwards replacing it with his right hand, saying, "through the gate they'd opened in order to help prevent calamity.

"After Brigadier General Mustang, my brother, Alphonse, and I destroyed the rocket powered air ships, I was ordered to close the gate on their side. As part of that assignment, I was to find and destroy all evidence of our world to ensure no future invasions would occur. My brother accompanied me through the portal on their last airship," he concluded by again shifting his hands, visually representing his return to Germany.

"Were you successful in your mission?" General Fox who led the Treasury Department asked, if Ed remembered correctly. The burly, bear of a man grew his tan beard and sideburns on his aging face like a hairy sine wave, and Ed found it was hard not to laugh at the image.

"Yes." Ed answered succinctly, as to not let his entertainment show.

"Please elaborate for the Council, Fullmetal," Mustang instructed from his trademark position, elbows on the table and linked hands in front of his slightly smirking lips. Ed thought the attractive bastard looked a little too entertained for his liking, already knowing the answers Ed would give.

"Well, my brother and I destroyed their gate with rocket fuel as an explosive device. We tracked down, dismantled, and disposed of an Amestrian bomb and its related materials. Also, we eliminated any resources mentioning Amestris or the events from two years ago, more specifically, the invasion and how to travel between worlds."

"It seems you were quite busy," said Lieutenant General Gardner from Research and Development. He seemed interested for the first time during the interview, leaning his gaunt face and grey hair forward as he straightened his rounded glasses. His greedy beady eyes hid behind the glare of his spectacles.

"You could say that," Ed agreed, giving a nonchalant shrug, but smiled a devilish smirk. He was rewarded with a few chuckles for his efforts.

"What bomb are you talking about Elric?" Hakuro's voice rang out in its haughtiness above the suppressed laughter; he was head of the State Department and thought his perspective was the only correct one. If you didn't agree, you were worthless to him, as Ed had discovered in his youth while dealing with his CO's superior. What a douche.

"My commanding officer, Brigadier General Mustang, has the case file dated 1914, Amestrian Calendar," Ed began, indicating the smug Flame.

"Mustang, what the hell is he talking about?" Hakuro growled, glaring at his new target.

"Sir," Mustang, now head of Interior, replied smoothly as he passed the folder to the Führer. "Here is the file on a Mr. L. Huskisson filed 1914 by a then Major Elric. It dictates the episode in full and describes the capabilities of this weapon."

"So it says," Grumman conceded as he reviewed the paperwork before turning back to Ed. Hakuro began to reach for the file when Grumman folded his hands over the closed folder, effectively stating that no one else would see the report. "Mr. Elric, will you please describe how you came to know of its existence on the other side of the gate?"

"During my investigation into the eminent invasion, one of my contacts showed me a propaganda photo of Huskisson with his bomb prominently displayed. After my return to Germany, my brother and I were able to track down the bomb and the materials used to create and study it through this contact. By that time, however, Huskisson had died due to exposure to its components," Ed explained.

"If the bomb was shown to others, isn't there still risk of disclosure?" Asked Lieutenant General Raven from Defense with concern showing in his piercing blue eyes in a tan face with a shock of white hair. His friendly demeanor belied the sharp mind Ed could see through his considering gaze.

A concerned murmur spread through the council at the possibility.

"I highly doubt it," Ed cut in and offered the council. They quieted as he continued. "All five of the men photographed with the bomb died of exposure. The Thule Society, the leading force behind the invasion, lost all credibility with their quick and utter defeat by the Amestrian Army and State Alchemists as well as in their own country.

"The only remaining militant member after the invasion, a Lieutenant Hess, died recently in a plane crash. There's no threat. My brother and I personally disarmed and destroyed the bomb along with its materials," Ed affirmed with certitude.

"How do we know any of what you say is true? What if he is a spy for this 'Germany'?!" Hakuro shouted while pointing an accusatory finger at Ed. "He could have planned the invasion for all we know!"

"Major General Hakuro," Ed's voice was steady, low and calm, but the restrained power was not missed by the council. Damn it; there goes the 'perfect soldier' role he had been trying to depict. Fuck it. Edward Elric didn't take shit from anyone, even a Major General and especially not from a jackass like Hakuro. He had come too far, seen too much to let anyone treat him like he was a traitor. "I did _not_ spend four and a half years of my life trying to get back to Amestris just to destroy it. This world, this country, is my home."

Ed's voice sounded far away as he continued, unscripted.

"You've no idea what it's like to live in a place, surrounded by people you know but that don't recognize you. Buildings're severe, and social norms're strict. Colors're muted, and food's bland. The government and her people were short sighted and angry." Ed took a deep breath as if waking from a dream. "Sir, Germany was a place I lived, but it was never my home."

The room sat quietly in the spell of Ed's words. He could feel Führer Grumman reappraised him as he sat before the council unintimidated. Ed imagined that Grumman saw a tired soul worn thin with years of being beaten down but standing once more in triumph.

"Fullmetal, what did you mean you recognized people but they didn't know you?" Fairchild asked tilting his head with curiosity.

Shit. He hadn't meant to say that. He glanced to Mustang who was frowning. Ed hadn't told his CO about that either; after all, there's only so much you can put in an encoded message. Damn it… Well, fuck it, here goes.

"The other world mirrors ours, but they are not the same. People may look the same or may even have the same name, but they are individuals in their own right," Ed hoped that would be enough.

"What do you mean, Elric?" Hakuro sneered with disbelief.

Ed sighed. Of course it wouldn't be enough.

"For example, while alone in exile, I befriended a German teen who looked incredibly like my brother, Alphonse. His name was Alfons Heiderich," Ed smiled remorsefully at the memory. "He was a brilliant physicist, but he was not my brother." Ed's smile slid off his face and plunged into a flat mask. "Lieutenant Hess killed him for helping me the night I returned to close the gate after the German invasion," Ed finished, brooking any further discussion of his fallen friend.

After a charged pause of commiserate grief, Hakuro took another track.

"Well then, explain the letters you wrote addressed to 'General Bastard,'" Hakuro ordered, bringing the room back to the present task and away from their own ghosts and departed brethren. "Your insubordination knows no bounds. All of the Generals here have seen them. I suppose I understand the scientific notation of combustibles for the Flame Alchemist, but why write a letter describing your brother's cat and events from the 'time before last?' What did you discuss with the General?"

"As you know, I have always been under Brigadier General Mustang's command, so I thought it'd be obvious to whom the letters were directed. Anyways, during that time, my younger brother had accompanied me on many of my missions, and Mustang's team had grown attached to him." Ed gave his rehearsed answer, knowing that someone would ask him this. If they didn't he'd have lost some of the respect he did have for the leaders of his country. It was a basic question, after all.

"At the time of my assessment by combat against the Brigadier General, Al had tried to take in a stray cat. Since we had no permanent residence, I made a bet with my CO, when he was still a colonel at Eastern Command. If I won the fight, he was going to have to take care of the kitten for us. If I lost, I'd have to do extra paperwork for a month. Since it ended in a draw, neither happened, and Al had to give up the cat. I wrote the entries about Al and his cat to let everyone on the team know that Al was alright."

"What about the personal note? What are you trying to hide? Why use circumspect language?" Hakuro pushed, not satisfied.

"As you say, Major General, it was personal," Ed breathed a dramatic sigh to sell his story. "I'm sure, when writing to those we know, we all write in some form of short hand…" Ed left the thought and saw a few nods of agreement before he resumed his practiced answer. "I was unsure if I would be able to discuss it with him immediately upon my return, so I made it a point to leave the note for him. It's no secret that the General and I have had a… rivalry, shall we say," Ed smirked.

Quite a few people chuckled at that much to Hakuro's growing irritation.

"Anyways, the 'time before last' was a reference to a discussion we had right before my first trip through the gate. We had, I think, found some common ground, and I wanted him to know where I stood after all this time."

The room seemed satisfied with that.

"Mr. Elric, I have one more question for today," Grumman said considering the information they had already gathered and the lateness of the hour, if the old man glancing at the clock was any indication. "How were you able to get home?"

The whole room perked up at the Führer's question, but that was one answer he and Al had promised to take to their graves, not even telling Mustang. They were the only two that knew, and neither of them would say a word; no one should know.

"I paid the price it cost," Ed said with finality, not intending to say any more than that.

"And what price is that?" came a steady voice from behind Ed as the doors boomed open, signaling someone's arrival.

The entire chamber refocused on the figure as he entered, making Ed swivel around to assess the late comer. A man in his late sixties strode through the space in an expensive three-piece grey suit and classic bowtie. His thin face held a large forehead that rose into a thinning pale brown hairline; it seemed to elongated his height and appeared to stretch his frame, giving him more of a presence than was normal for a man of his build. His casual gait exuded confidence that seemed as natural to him as breathing.

"Chairman, it is good you were able to make it, in the end," Grumman said with a passible welcome, but Ed knew a loaded greeting when he heard one. They had saved his life on a few occasions, and Old Man Grumman was not happy this guy showed up at the end of a very long day.

Ed scrutinized the exchange in confusion from behind his rehersed mask, a sense of disquiet colonizing his stomach. Who the fuck was this asshat? Ed was doubly glad that he had taken Kai up on his offer to tutor him in grandstanding. He had learned it was sometimes better not to say anything than say what he would have blurted out in his youth.

"Chairman," Hakuro toned with self-importance, "this is…"

"Ah, no need to introduce The Hero of the People, General," he said with a cool demeanor and a pleasant smile. "His reputation precedes him."

When The Chairman finally turned to Ed, evaluating eyes caught gold, and Ed had the disconcerting feeling in his gut double, washing over his previous calm. He had felt in control of the room a moment ago, but this 'Chairman' was an unknown variable; Ed would have to be careful, and it made him uneasy.

"Mr. Elric," The Chairman bobbed slightly to Ed then turned his attention to the main table. "Gentleman," he nodded around to the Generals, moving around Ed's seat while crossing the room. "I am late. My session ran long," he said without apology, continuing to walk the room to sit near the head of the table, a seat down from Grumman, Ed realized with a small shock. Really, who was this fucking guy?

"Hmph," Hakuro grunted as the older man took his seat at the table.

"Obviously, Chairman," Grumman said as he cut Hakuro off with a stern glance, "while, it is your right to join these conferences, as per the new statutes, if you do wish to attend, please do so for the entire session and not arrive as the day is ending. We were about to adjourn until tomorrow."

"Thank you for the kind reminders, Your Excellency," he answered the stern reprimand as if it were helpful hints. This guy must have balls of fucking steel to walk into a Council of Generals, late, and be unintimidated when the _fucking Fuhrer of Amestris_ gives you shit. "So," the man simply redirected the conversation, "Mr. Elric, what is the price to come back to Amestris?"

Ed considered his new inquirer. Had the man really been late, or had he heard the whole debriefing so far? It seemed farfetched that the newcomer had spent… Ed spun in his chair to see the clock in the windowless room to find that it was nearly 6PM. They had been at this for five hours and Grumman had just said this was the last question of the day… until tomorrow. How many days was the council going to grill him?

"Well, Mr. Elric?" The Chairman asked politely.

"Sir?" Ed directed his address to Grumman. "Who is this? I understand that the Central based Generals comprise The Council, but I was unaware civilians were privy to State classified meetings," Ed hedged. He didn't want to answer the question posed, so as Kai had taught him, he asked his own.

"Dear, Edward," The Chairman answered before Grumman could, "a lot has changed in the last four years, has it not, Brigadier General Mustang?"

The room chuckled at a joke that went over Ed's head.

What the fuck was happening? Ed had just had the entire room where he needed them and this fucker was totally undermining his plan. And what the fuck was so funny? Ed fought to not frown as he considered what to do next.

"Quite a lot, indeed, Chairman," Mustang agreed, and Ed did frown at that. Fuck. What had happened while he was gone? What had he fallen into? Was this even the Amestris he remembered? Would his prepared answers be enough? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why had he thought it would go to plan? It _never_ went to plan.

'Damn it, Ed, when are you going to learn?' he cursed himself.

"Fullmetal, please answer the question," Grumman ordered, his face tense.

"Yes, sir, I…" Ed responded securing his mask again, thinking quickly, looking for an out until he could formulate the best way to skirt or bend the truth into something harmless, something that had no chance of actually causing more pain to his war torn home. He needed to protect his friends, his country, his home, his brother. Surely, The Council would use whatever he said as a means of war; it was the military.

"Come on, spit it out Elric," Hakuro pushed and the council grew restless at Ed's inability to speak.

The Thule Society had unleashed death upon Amestris and Bradley before them. He was sure his answer today would simply fuel the fire of turmoil and fear and pain. What was he going to say? What could he say?

"As much as I'm sure Fullmetal is trying to condense what can only be guessed to be a complex subject into an understandable summary," Mustang drolled, meeting Ed's eyes, "with the amount of time left in the day, it might be better to discuss it in detail tomorrow morning." The Hero of the People was not going to blush at the onyx and alabaster man's save, but he was relieved all the same. He was also not going to let his mind run away with him at this point in time.

"No running away, Mustang," Hakuro called above the considering clamor from the rest of the council. "I know you want to protect your pet alchemist, but he needs to answer. Who knows what he's done? Who's to say it isn't some illegal form of sorcery? All you alchemists are the same," Hakuro raised his voice, taking in Ed, Mustang, and Brigadier General Avro of Alchemic Affairs. "You're all secretive and …"

"That's enough," Grumman cut him off. "We owe a great deal to alchemists, Major General, or had you forgotten your own rescue?"

Ed, Mustang, Grumman, and The Chairman just studied him from behind their own masks in silence as the rest of the room murmured about Ed saving Hakuro on a train, years ago.

"No personal matters should exceed the needs of the State," Hakuro bellowed angrily to the rest of his fellows. "We should force him to tell us now, before he changes his story."

"Let us digest the facts as they have been presented to us thus far before we tack on a science heavy explanation," Major General Bell from the Labor Department said, tilting his head and allowing his crew cut hair to shade his eyes. "I'd, personally, rather have it on a fresh mind than push for an explanation I'd be too tired to even pretend to understand."

"Here, here," Major General Harris from Agriculture said as his fastidiously tidy appearance seemed to be wilting under the idea of more time in this room tonight.

"And give him time to dodge the details? His knowledge on the subject will add to our understanding of the German scientific prowess. I want to hear it all," Lieutenant General Gardner said as he leaned his thin frame forward, almost leering at an untapped fountain of knowledge.

"I for one, think that a full night to reflect on what Mr. Elric has already imparted to us and coming back refreshed is most advisable," The Chairman added to the barrage of Generals' comments, some of whom Ed had never heard from until threatened with a flood of information.

"Yes, we will wait until tomorrow," Grumman toned, calling the rest of the cacophony of voices to stillness. "We will break for a recess until morning," he said to the chamber at large before turning his knowing eyes to Ed. "At such time, I expect to fully understand the mechanics of your journey. Understood, soldier?"

Ed nearly gulped, but simply gave a 'yes, sir' and saluted. The first day of his debriefing ended after that in an orderly fashion, but Ed couldn't concentrate on anything except getting back to his room to think. Al would have some ideas on what to say, but Ed doubted he'd be allowed to talk to Mustang.

Fuck.

Military police escorted him back to his room to find it unoccupied except for single sheet of paper.

 

_Mr. Edward Elric,_

_You are heretofore ordered to remain in solitary protective custody for the remainder of your debriefing. Any unauthorized contact as defined by Subsection C of the Penal Code will be considered an act of treason under Executive Order 478y23, punishable by court martial, demotion, and/or death._

_Upon completion of your debriefing, you will be remanded on your own recognizance under Subsection 11 of State Code 520A. At such time, you will report to your commanding officer for further orders._

_The Council of Generals_

 

Apparently, his bad luck was sticking around because Al had been removed from their joint room, and Ed was expected to stay put for the remainder of the debriefing or die. _Fucking perfect._ So not only was he alone, but he had to come up with a detailed explanation for trans-world travel that would fool the Council of Generals enough that any research they commissioned would fail without arousing suspicion. _Great._ Ed slumped onto his hard military mattress. From the note, he also guessed that he'd be here for a while.

So where the fuck was Al? Either the military was simply separating him from his brother, or Al had been released. Shit. Was he safe? If he wasn't held by the military, then he couldn't stay at the dorms, and since neither of them had any Amestrian money, Al getting a room was out, too. Where would his little brother go if he wasn't in a guarded and secluded dorm room like Ed?

He crossed his arms and bit on the tip of his metal thumb in deep thought as he stared at the missive. He could alchemize a door to go looking for Al, but… wait… How could he protect his little brother, who was finally healing from the instant four-year growth spurt, if Ed was found missing and labeled a traitor? What would be the point of being home if he was living in hiding or on the run again?

Shit. He wished he could talk to Mustang.

Damn it! Where the fuck was Al?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grumman doesn't have a first name in cannon, so I named him after the voice actor who does his voice in the 2003 show, Gordon Fox. Thanks .com!
> 
> The structure of my vision of the Amestrian Army hierarchy is as follows and an asterisk (*) indicates if I completely made them up (minus their random picture-described below):
> 
> Fuhrer  
> Gordon Grumman
> 
> Chain of command 1-  
> Lieutenant General Samuel Raven, Defense Department  
> Major General William Hakuro, State Department  
> * Brigadier General Jack Fairchild, Intelligence  
> Brigadier General Roy Mustang, Interior  
> Brigadier General Carl Clemins, Judical  
> Major General Olivier Armstrong, Briggs Fortress
> 
> Chain of command 2-  
> Lieutenant General Alexander Gardner, Research and Development
> 
> Chain of command 3-  
> General Daniel Fox, Treasury  
> Major General Johnathan Harris, Agriculture  
> *Major General Robert Weiss, Commerce  
> Brigadier General Gerold Edison, Energy  
> *Brigadier General Earnest McDonnell, Transportation  
> *Major General Arthur Bell, Labor  
> *Brigadier General Richard Saro, Veteran Affairs  
> *Brigadier General Francis "Frank" Avro, Alchemic Affairs
> 
> I created some of these (*) characters, or added in first names, and picked their photo (if not specifically named in cannon) from random scenes in which I saw generals, or high ranking officers, like at Hughes’ funeral or at the meeting MG Armstrong attends in Central with Father and Sloth in Brotherhood. Fairchild was the one who interrogated Lieutenant Ross in Brotherhood.
> 
> Most of the areas that each general is responsible for were based on the work they were doing in the episode I found their photo in. For example, Raven checks out Briggs in Brotherhood, so it is not a stretch to think that the Lieutenant General is Major General Armstrong’s superior officer, and since she is defending the north, it is also not a stretch to think that LG Raven is in charge of what would be the equivalent of the Defense Secretary in the United States.
> 
> Other locations like Eastern Command are run by a general with at least a rank of Major General (like Olivier at Briggs), but they do not play a large role in my story.


	24. Chapter 24

***Friends***

Central, Amestris, January 1920

 

Alphonse was not allowed to attend Brother’s debriefing. According to the Sargent who led him out of The Council’s chamber, he also wasn’t able to stay with his brother for fear of cross contamination of information which was strange. They had shared a secluded dorm after they had gotten out of their shared hospital room, but maybe the Generals were afraid of outside forces influencing Alphonse and that leaking back to his brother.

Whatever the reason, Alphonse was dismissed at noon with nowhere to go. After giving a few hours’ worth of prepared testimony to the Council of Generals, he decided to sit and wait for his brother in the large, circular, marble antechamber outside of the debriefing room at Central Command. After about 20 minutes, Brigadier General Mustang called him over from across the domed foyer.

“I hope I’m not over stepping here Alphonse, but since you can't return to the sequestered dorm you’ve been sharing with Fullmetal, I’ve asked an old friend if you could stay with her. This might take a while,” the Brigadier General said kindly.

‘Please, don’t let it be an ex-girlfriend’ was all Alphonse thought. That would be so weird. He knew the General’s reputation, but it would be especially awkward if that were the case with the way Brother and Brigadier General Mustang had been looking at each other the past two weeks when they didn’t think anyone could see them at the guarded medical facility.

“Alphonse?” A sweet and gentle voice beckoned to him and was followed by a loud squeal from a much younger lady.

“Big brother, Al!” A little girl yelled, bright green eyes wide with happiness. Alphonse turned towards the excited child and caught her midair; pain radiated along his skin and deep in his bones, but his smile grew with recognition. Those eyes looked so much like her mother’s.

“Elicia Margret Hughes, you remember what I said about jumping all over him. He’s still recovering,” a familiar face that knew him chided.

That had been what Brother had talked about, being overlooked in a sea of well-known faces. It had pained him when he’d met Gracia Johann in Germany, and she hadn’t known him. He was grateful that Amestris’s Gracia Hughes saw and _knew_ him.

“That’s alright, Mrs. Hughes. It’s worth it,” Alphonse confessed affectionately as he hugged Elicia tightly in his tender arms. It almost felt like the soreness from the flu, but he was so glad to be back, the dull ache didn’t matter, almost like when he remembered having escaped the unfeeling meal of armor. He was ecstatic just to feel, so he didn’t mind if his recovery included pain; it meant that he was alive, had all his memories, and was back in his body. He was in his properly aged body for the first time in nearly a decade.

Alphonse saw Brigadier General Mustang smirk at the scene before returning to the chamber where Brother’s debriefing would be, a quiet ‘I’ll contact you when he’s done’ floating in his wake.

Alphonse gladly left with the welcoming Hughes family to their pale yellow house, his larger hand held tightly by Elicia’s small one. Once he was settled into the spare room, which he was sure was Mr. Hughes’ old home office, the three of them ate a pleasant late lunch together with laughter and love. When they were done, they moved to the living room couch to watch Elicia play. Since Mrs. Hughes had closed her flower shop for the day and kept Elicia home from school in order to bring him here, he was touched by their sacrifice to host him.

“Not at all, Alphonse,” Mrs. Hughes said honestly. “When Roy told me you were home, I demanded that you stay with us, and I am so glad that I did,” she smiled, pulling him into a warm hug. “You always have a home here. Always.”

He felt the thickness in his throat and the prickling in his eyes before returning her hug gently. He knew she meant every word. Brigadier General Hughes would have said the same thing. He pulled back slowly, careful of his tender body as he wiped his cresting tears away.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling wider, a break in his deeper voice. He was still getting used to his older, larger body. It had aged four years in an instant and the soreness was dissipating, even if slowly. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Hughes. It feels like I’ve come home,” he told her. “I just wish I knew how long The Council was going to keep Brother.”

“As long as they think they need to, I suppose,” she said noncommittally, but Alphonse could see she wanted Brother home, too.

“Will Big Brother Ed be home for dinner?” Elicia asked Alphonse innocently, her green eyes taking in his every nuanced expression, just like her father before her.

“I wish I knew,” he confided in her with a sad smile. She frowned at that, so he quickly added, “so, what should we make for dinner when he is released?”

Emerald eyes considered him seriously, as if the meal were of great importance.

“Stew,” she decided, nodding her head with decisiveness.

Alphonse and Mrs. Hughes shared a broad and knowing smile over the small girl’s light brown head. Stew. It was still Brother’s favorite dish, and the only meal he would eat that contained the dreaded M-word. He was surprised she remembered it, but then again Brother had never been subtle about his preferences and appetite.

“Do we have enough milk to make it, Mama?” The serious child asked her mother, and Alphonse had to fight back a laugh. If only Brother knew how much of his hated food group was in his favorite meal, he’d never take another bite.

Al sighed happily at the thought, but began to recognize his fatigue after an eventful day. It was only half past 2 PM, but his strength was flagging. Mrs. Hughes must have seen his energy waning, for her knowing eyes made contact with his while she spoke to her little girl.

“Well, let’s let Alphonse rest while we go buy the ingredients,” Gracia coaxed her precocious daughter. “That way we’ll have them for when Ed can come home.”

“Alright, Mama,” she said with a smile, then turned her gaze to Alphonse. “You should go take a nap. I don’t need ‘em anymore since I’m almost nine, but you look sleepy.”

“Thank you, Elicia. I think I will,” then a thought struck him, “but I think I need to make a call first,” he said. “Is it alright, Mrs. Hughes?”

“Of course, Alphonse. Please think of this as your home,” she said with a kind smile that warmed his heart. “I always have.”

Mrs. Hughes ushered Elicia out the door, and with that, Alphonse was given his privacy. He sat on the floral printed navy sofa next to the telephone and took a deep breath to steady himself. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs then dialed. After the second ring, someone picked up.

“Rockbell Automail, Pinako speaking, how may I help you?” A memorable older voice said.

“Granny Pinako, I know you may not recog…” Alphonse began, but a sharp reply cut him off.

“Alphonse? Is that you?” the keen elderly lady questioned. “Winry!” She shouted off away from the phone. “Pick up the line! Alphonse is on the phone!”

“Are you alright? Where’s Edward?” She demanded of him in her direct fashion.

Before he was able to answer, another voice was added to the connection.

“Al?! Al, is that you?!” A melodic voice he had been dreaming about for over two years shouted.

“Hi, Winry…” he smiled to hear her voice and exuberance. Warmth bloomed in his stomach and over his cheeks. Alphonse hadn’t realized how much it would mean to him to hear her call his name; it sent butterflies fluttering wildly through his system.

“When did you get back? Are you ok? Where are you? Where’s Ed?” his dream girl interrogated him all in a single breath.

“Let the boy answer, Winry,” Granny chastised impatiently. “Go ahead, Alphonse.”

“We got back a little over two weeks ago. I just got out of State sequestered custody, but Brother’s still being debriefed. I’m staying with Mrs. Hughes. We were in the hospital, but we’re fine now. Only… you might not recognize me…” he trailed off, feeling apprehensive and self-conscious.

“What do you mean we might not recognize you?” Winry asked confused. “You’re both only a few years older, so…”

“Well, part of the price to get back required a little more than we had planned on,” he told them, interrupting her.

“Alphonse Elric, stop playing with an old woman. What’s happened?” Pinako commanded in her no-nonsense voice.

“Granny, Winry, you know how I was born in 1900?” He asked tentatively, trying to find the words to describe what had happened to him.

“Uh-huh…” Winry answered for them both, but Alphonse knew Granny was probably nodding along.

“Well, I finally look it,” he declared with pride and wary anticipation. Would they be able to accept him? They had when he was armor, so being in his biologically correct body should be ok, right?

Winry squeaked a sharp inhale over the silent line then neither woman said anything for a charged moment, feeding his dread at being rejected by those he loved.

“What did you boys do?” Pinako ordered him to explain in an accusatory voice.

“It wasn’t intentional, promise,” he pleaded for them to understand. “We had the price ready for the trip back, but the temporary gate wanted more. Ed sliced his arm to give it extra blood, but it also took four physical years from me. I promise, we’re fine. Brother got a blood transfusion and stitches at the hospital, so he’s alright now. We’re both alright now. We’re home,” Alphonse revealed in a rushed high pitched voice, waving his hand to ward off their anger even though no one was able to see him.

Finally, he heard a deep exhale he thought came from Granny.

“Dummy!” Winry croaked. “You’re both dummies!” She cried into Alphonse’s ear. “You…” she sniffled, “you big dummies!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe and sound, Alphonse. We’ll come down to Central as soon as we can close up shop,” Pinako said matter-of-factly.

“You don’t have to. We aren’t officially back yet according to the military…” Alphonse replied before being cut off.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Al,” Winry nearly cursed. “We’ll be there by the end of the week, just give me his measurements.”

And that was the end of that.

-8-

Winry and her sharp grandmother were impatient to arrive as their train slowly pulled into Central Station Friday afternoon. Granny was biting agitatedly on her unlit pipe while the younger mechanic was bouncing her knees above her hard wooden seat. They had both worked day and night for the first three days after Al’s marvelously unexpected call, putting all other non-imperative orders on hold; then they had made the two-day train ride from Resembool to Central.

While she had been hyper-focused on her part of the matchless masterpieces’ manufacturing, she had felt the pressure to get it right, not wanting to ever deliver incomplete work ever again due to lack of concentration. After she and granny were both exhausted but satisfied, they had set off on a direct train to the capital.

They hadn’t been delayed by any sheep on the tracks, unexpected reroutings, or train malfunctions, but she had been itching to get to the long lost Elrics all week. Now, she enthusiastically poked her head out their compartment window, ignoring her granny’s disapproving reprimand to sit still like an adult, as their train finally pulled into the station.

Her yellow unbound bangs and the strips of hair she wore long along her jaw line fluttering in the wind. She was absently aware that the rest of her clasped back hair was coming undone; she didn’t care. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she searched for any sign of the boys she had missed so much. Her large blue eyes watered in the whipped air as she searched. At last, they caught sight of a tall honey blond with the comforting olive eyes she had last seen two years ago.

Alphonse.

He was flanked by Gracia and Elicia Hughes, but Winry was unable to take in their smiles of greeting. Her focus was on the man standing on the platform. His transformed appearance shocked her, but felt familiar all the same. His square jaw was more pronounced, his hair cropped short like it had been ten years before, and his shoulders were broad. While these were all true of her childhood friend, he now exuded a nearly tactile essence of male. He was a man, and she felt blindsided by the realization, staring at him in stunned disbelief.

The train jerked as it crawled along the platform causing her to shake out of her inner observations. She shook her head and smiled at him before helping Granny with their luggage, heading for the exit. However different he was from the young teenager he had been two years ago, she mused, he was still Al. His olive eyes were still filled with hope and affection. His pale caramel hair still held a delightful glow. His smile was still as charming. He was just older. Yeah. Just older. That was all.

“Al!” She cried, nearly bowling him over as she leapt onto him from the train car’s exit. Her arms hugging him tightly. Tears streaked freely down her face as her granny looked on from behind her. She couldn’t help the relief she felt at seeing him whole, aged, and here. Before she could say anything else, a young voice reached her ears.

“Careful, Big Sister! You can’t jump all over him. He’s still recovering,” Elicia censured her. Winry blushed as she tried to back away, but Al just squeezed her more firmly, obviously unwilling to let her go yet.

Around her, Winry heard the gentle laughter of Mrs. Hughes and Granny. The anxiety that had been building in her heart since Monday afternoon melted at the sound and the warm embrace. As though she were sinking in a hot spring, her muscles relaxed and she began to laugh, too.

“Where’s Ed,” she asked happily.

“He’s still in custody,” Al told her, and she could see his growing anxiety. Winry wondered how long that could last. How long would the military keep her childhood friend? Was he ok?

To save them all worry, they subtly changed the subject as they collected Winry and Granny’s luggage and headed for the hotel she and her grandmother would be staying at. It would be too cramped for the Rockbells, Elrics and Hughes. The party caravanned to the hotel to settle the visiting mechanics in. As Winry put the recently attained room key in the door, the phone began to ring. She got it open in time to quickly pick up the line.

“Hello?” the blue eyed young woman answered after rushing to the phone, curious who would be calling their newly rented room.

“Hello, Miss Rockbell,” Brigadier General Mustang greeted her politely. He was the man who had killed her parents under orders, but she respected and looked up to him. Apparently, even after all these years, she was still confused by her feelings about him, not sure how to interact with him. Brigadier General Mustang continued, aware of the awkward silence, “I thought you should know, Fullmetal has been released from custody. Since he didn’t know his brother’s whereabouts, he was heading back to the dorm they’d shared.”

How had he known where to reach them? They had only checked into the hotel about 10 minutes ago…

‘That man knows too much for his own good,’ Winry thought as she thanked him.


	25. Chapter 25

***I'm Going to Sleep for a Year***

Central, Amestris, January 1920

Ed flopped down in the dorm room bed, face first into the pillow. Since Monday afternoon, he had spent the whole week being debriefed by the Council of Generals. His days had been filled with questions, and his nights had been spent under guard. Even his meals had been 'working lunches,' so he couldn't leave then either.

The council had asked him about the most mundane details of his life in Germany as well as the harder questions he had prepped for. The Generals had all seemed to have a difficult time understanding the logistics of traversing between worlds, which he'd figured was good. He had tried to be circumspect in the details, thanks to Kai's tutelage, not wanting them to get any bright ideas.

-8-

"No," Ed had said again, emphatically this time, losing patience. "In the end, we were the only ones who could have opened even a temporary path between worlds."

"And why is that, Elric?" Hakuro had scornfully jeered. "Is it because you are so smart we are supposed to be in awe of your genius?"

"No," Ed had breathed irritably, gritting his teeth. Then he had calmed himself before continuing, "it is because we were the only ones on that side of the gate that were originally from this side. Most alchemy doesn't work on that side of the gate. The pathways between worlds can only be opened by an alchemist from beyond the gate. In other words, side A will only open to side B if someone from side B is already on side A and opens it from side A."

"What do you mean 'most alchemy' doesn't work?" Brigadier General Avro from Alchemic Affairs had wanted to know, twisting his already artfully curving eyebrow.

"Only blood alchemy used by an alchemist from this side works correctly," Ed had explained succinctly trying to stifle further exploration into that thought.

"So you did all that without alchemy?" Avro had said in awe and the room had broken into low murmurs.

When the room had calmed again, The Chairman had deduced the price Ed had paid.

"Is that why your arm was sliced upon arrival? You were paying the price to get your brother home with your life's blood?" The clever Assemblyman in the expensive three-piece suit had charged.

Ed had sat in quiet, not answering, and the room had taken his silence as confirmation. He had mentioned his intent to get Al home as his impetus for returning to Amestris yesterday or the day before; he'd been unable to remember which day it had been. They had become an amalgam in his head. However, he could see his silent admission had him rising in the council members' estimations; Mustang had just given Ed a look like he had not expected anything less, even if it had annoyed him.

"Then explain how Thule opened the portal in the first place. If it requires an alchemist from our side to be there to open it, then you must have opened it for them!" Hakuro had demanded Ed's culpability, like a dog refusing to let go of a tattered bone.

"I did not," Ed had said coldly, biting his tongue to stop himself from cursing the fucker out and reminding himself to not let the complete asshat rile him up into letting slip something he hadn't wanted them to know. "Lives were lost to pay for the interdimensional doorway they used, lives I was unable to save," he had replied with remorse. He had wondered if his father's soul and those of the three homunculi had suffered when they had powered the portal. "An old alchemist who had been marooned there was captured and used as fuel; his name was Hohenheim." There had been no reason to explain the presence and destruction of the homunculi; they were all dead anyways.

Out of the corner of his eye, he had spied Mustang. His CO had known Hohenheim was Ed's father, but the Brigadier General's expression hadn't given way any foreknowledge. The rest of the room had broken out into a loud cacophony of questions.

"Hohenheim?!" "Hohenheim?" "That man?" "Hohenheim?!" "How do you know that name?"

Good. Ed had known his father's name would prompt the Generals to focus on the missing man rather than ask further logistical inquiries, so he'd had to use that card. He hadn't wanted to bring it up unless he had needed to, but Hakuro's unrelenting questions had made the decision for him.

"He was already on their side of the gate when I arrived. He was killed opening the doorway," Ed had supplied, hoping that the information would keep the focus off of more logistically sensitive topics.

"Then how did either of you get to the other side in the first place?" Hakuro had asked with smug satisfaction, as if catching Ed in a lie.

The Major General had been on Ed's last nerve. He hadn't wanted to tell the Major General, or anyone else for that matter, that to open the doorway from this side you needed to perform human transmutation on a living human being, so instead he had allowed himself to answer with agitation.

"Look, I don't make the rules. You'd have to ask the dead alchemist responsible for sending us to the other side how she did it," he had easily side stepped the question. He would never tell them the truth.

"Did you kill her, Fullmetal?" The serious question had come from Major General Bell who was in charge of the Labor Department.

"No. All evidence suggests that she was killed by a creature she'd alchemically turned rabid," Ed had replied, remembering what Al had deduced before trying to bring Ed home, that Gluttony had devoured Dante whole along with half the elevator floor that connected the Fuhrer's office with the Forgotten City.

Ed had wondered absently if that passage had been discovered or not. Maybe when he got out of the endless game of 20 Questions he'd make sure the route was secure. He had needed to decide what he was going to do with himself now that he was back…

-8-

Ed turned over now to look at the ceiling of his dorm room. Man, was he glad it was over. It was expected that he would report to Mustang on Monday morning. For what, he really didn't know; he had been too tired to ask. All he knew was that he was officially out of being sequestered as of an hour ago.

He looked over at Al's empty bed, missing his brother. Since Ed was in custody, he wasn't allowed to talk to anyone, even his old CO. However, Mustang had passed a message to him through a newly promoted Sargent Whitworth: Al had been staying with Gracia and Elicia all week. His brother was safe. With that in mind, hopefully Al wouldn't mind if Ed called him later. He was beat. Kicking off his shoes, he rolled onto his back and fell asleep within seconds.

 

* * *

***Feeling better***

Central, Amestris, January 1920

Alphonse made his way through the halls of the dorms. He was so happy he was nearly skipping in his new, longer stride. His brother had survived a week of nonstop questions, and now they were free. Now they were home!

He slowed as he neared his brother's room. It would be great to see Brother again. Double checking that he had the right room. He knocked and waited.

Alphonse had woken up three days after they had arrived back in Amestris surrounded by his brother and a security patrol in the small hospital facility under lockdown. At least Brother and he had been in the same room. He had ached all over, and had been awkward and uncoordinated.

Brother had just laughed at the scene. When he had stopped, Brother had told him he finally looked his age, and Alphonse had nearly fallen out of bed to get to a mirror. He really did look 19! Square jaw, plump lower lip, straight nose, big olive eyes, and now an extra six inches taller.

So what if his growing pains had been excruciating, only ebbing slowly as time went by? Considering all they had been through, here he was: home, in his flesh and bones body with all his memories, and looking his age all for the first time in nine years!

Brother had felt bad that the gate had taken four years off of Alphonse's life, but that's not how he had seen it. Alphonse had thought of it as a gift to finally be back to where he should have been had that night in Resembool never happened. The only reminders that it had all been real had been Ed's automail and the fact that they had been surrounded by military guards.

Ever since they had left Germany and woken up in Amestris, Alphonse had begun to feel like himself again. After he had watched Brother slice open his own arm just for Alphonse's sake, to make sure Brother got him home safe, his anger had nearly vanished. While Brother had risked his life again, Alphonse understood it now.

All that he had been left with was his sense of loss and guilt. Alphonse could not be mad at Ed for not appreciating their father the way Alphonse would have done. He had been sad for the lost opportunities instead. He had been guilty of far worse, and he had deserved his physical pain as his body adjusted to its new size, in small recompense for letting in an invading army, killing thousands.

He knocked again on his brother's door. He thought about his guilt over opening the portal and unleashing hell on Central. It was ever present, but he would find a way to atone.

While he had prepared the cocktail of Brother's blood and anticoagulants they had used as the price to get home, Alphonse had realized he'd always been good around blood and people. He'd never been squeamish around wounds either. Who knew how many times Brother had been injured and Alphonse had had to patch him up while on the road? Alphonse could also put people at ease, making them feel better. Maybe he could learn the skills he would need to really make a difference in people's lives and pay back what little he could. It was just like Dr. Marco had said; there was no way to repay the debt, but he would do what he could.

Alphonse opened the unlocked door to find his brother asleep on his back, hand under his shirt over his stomach, with his mouth wide open. Alphonse smiled as he retreated out of the room. He could see his brother tomorrow.


	26. Chapter 26

***First Day Back***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

Spending the weekend with the Hughes and Rockbell families had been so wonderful. They had all made it a point to make Ed and Al feel like this was their home and that they were loved. They had all eaten homemade meals, taken Elicia to the park, visited Maes' grave, and gone shopping. Gracia had insisted, in the way only a mother can, the brothers buy some clothes with the money Mustang said Ed was allowed until they worked out his back pay.

That first day back, free and clear, Winry had exchanged Ed's automail for brand new ones, made just for him based on his most recent dimensions taken during his hospital stay. Ed had grown another 2.37 inches in the last two years, making him 5 foot 6 and 3/8th inches tall, and he was ecstatic over every 1/8ths inch. Winry had made sure to get the measurements from Al before leaving Resembool, so she and Granny Pinako could make Ed a custom set.

"That's why it took us so long to get down to Central," Winry had explained.

After the shock of the pain had coursed through him, Ed could feel the difference in his gait. It was even for the first time in years. His left hip and lower back thanked her. Winry made the best automail. She had said he could pay her back when he could; he hoped it would be soon, but the best was expensive.

Ed had been able to give her the letter he had written to her. It was nothing special, just some thoughts about how he was glad she was always there for them, thanking her for looking after Al while he was away, that she really did make the best automail, and how he had missed his pseudo sister. Mostly Ed had written it as a red herring; if he had just written to Mustang, then it would have raised even more suspicion regarding the contents of the General's letters.

Along with Ed's letter to Winry, Mustang had returned Ed's pocket notebook. Ed was glad to see the General had not shared his research notes with the rest of the Brass. As with all alchemists' research, the theories and ideas inside it were highly coveted, and Ed was glad Mustang understood without a word.

When Mustang had handed Winry's letter back to him, he had told Ed that Intel had combed over the two envelopes he had brought in his coat pocket and their subjects. Both of them had smirked over the fact that Ed's real messages had been missed.

Although, if Ed thought about it, it didn't say much for Intelligence that they couldn't decrypt a ciphered message. Maybe Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong had distracted the investigative team with his 'Magnificent Muscles Passed Down through the Armstrong Family for Generations;' Ed had that feeling.

This morning, he was heading off to meet Mustang at the office. Al had stayed with Winry and Granny Pinako while Gracia took Elicia to school before heading off to open her shop. The Rockbells planned to stay until this upcoming weekend so they could all celebrate Ed and Elicia's joint birthday. Being around everyone was so great, but he had not had a moment to himself. The walk to Central Command was just what he needed to focus.

'We made it,' he thought blissfully to himself. Al and he had jumped between worlds once more, and they had explained all they were going to tell to the Council of Generals. Now they simply needed to figure out where to go from here. Ed figured he could get work as an alchemist, roaming around, fixing things while Al could do whatever he wanted. The possibilities were endless.

That last statement made Ed smile. His brother was free to do whatever it was he wanted to do. His 19-year-old brother was flesh, blood, and bone. Alphonse Elric was an adult in a body that reflected his mind. Ed's smile broadened.

As he took in Central all around him, he breathed in the brisk morning air deeply. It had a sharpness to it that said it was going to snow soon, that and the bite it had on his automail ports. Ed wrapped himself tightly in the new dark grey wool pea coat that Gracia had insisted he buy.

She had said it set off his eyes, so of course he had fought her on it. Who wanted to have their piss colored eyes stand out more? However, he was glad she had won; it was cold and the thick wool fabric of the double breasted jacket kept him warm. He was glad to have a mother figure back in his life. Ed had missed her.

He smiled to himself. They were home with those they loved just in time to see it snow in Central, his favorite time of year. He came to a stop, and closed his eyes as he breathed in again. The crispness of the winter chill tickling in his lungs as he dropped his head back. His long hair falling straight down from his ponytail.

Honk, honk!

Ed whipped his head up and opened his eyes, and catching sight of his old friend. Havoc pulled a car up to the street's edge next to him. Confused but still in a pleasant mood, he headed over to the curb. Havoc, in turn, rolled down the front passenger window.

"Hey Havoc," Ed called over the morning hum of the city going to work.

"Hi ya, Boss," the tall blond with blue eyes said around his lit cigarette, "glad I caught ya. Get in."

"That's alright," Ed waved him off. Something about the older man was putting Ed on edge. "I thought I'd walk, and you don't have to call me that anymore."

"Believe me, Boss," Havoc said, taking a drag. "You're gonna need a ride," he blew out along with his smoke, pointing his thumb to the back seat.

"Something up?" Ed asked as he reached for the car door. Red flags were going up in his brain while his good mood dissolved with each second as he got in. Havoc only really smoked his cigarettes when he was bothered by something; usually he fiddled with them in his lips or hung them behind his ear.

"You'll see," he cautioned grimly. He turned down small streets taking them off the main road, but still heading towards HQ.

Ed pursed his lips. He didn't like not knowing what he was walking into, but he trusted Havoc.

"You're gonna wanna put that on," Havoc recommended and threw Ed a blanket as they neared Central Command. "Get down in the seat, but the floor would be better. Make sure you're all covered up including your head."

"Uh… Ok. Havoc, what the hell is going on?" He demanded but did as instructed, crouching in the floor with his back to the passenger side door, flinging the blanket over himself.

"The press got wind that you're back. I'm taking you up the back entrance, the one the Führer uses," the older man informed Ed as he made a sharp turn. Ed was not ready for it, and it pressed him into the car door behind him. The car made a sudden stop, and Ed banged into the seat in front of him.

"Ow!"

"Shh," Havoc whispered around his cigarette. "There're a bunch of 'em crawling all around back here, too, so unless you wanna make front page news, keep it down, will ya?"

Ed froze. The press? Front page news? What did they want?

The car pulled forward, and Ed could hear the clambering newsmen shouting out their questions to Havoc as he checked into the guard tower, showing his identification.

"Lieutenant, is it true that the Fullmetal Alchemist has returned?"

"Is Führer Grumman suppressing knowledge of the Elrics' involvement in the death of Führer Bradley?"

"What is Fullmetal's status as a State Alchemist?"

"Is it true that Edward Elric's body was found? Is he alive or dead?"

"Lieutenant, can you confirm that both the Elric brothers have returned?"

"Where has Edward Elric been all this time?"

"Were the Elrics the anonymous alchemists on Invasion Day helping to save Central?"

"The military has no comment at this time," Ed heard Havoc say over the den of questions as the car slid past the gate.

Ed's head was spinning from the situation. He had planned what he would say to the Generals for a year, but he and Al had never considered that the Amestrian press would want their pound of flesh, too.

The car pulled up to the Führer's guarded private entrance and stopped. The car door behind Ed opened, and not being prepared for the sudden loss of support, he nearly fell out.

Climbing out awkwardly, he could see they were not visible to the reporters shouting questions or the guardsman who had the unlucky task of dealing with them. Ed was patted down by a member of the Führer's personal security staff while Havoc parked the car. Roughish and tall, the well-built brunet had slicked back brown hair with piercing black eyes.

"Voss." Havoc acknowledged the navy blue uniformed guard with a curt nod and a short as he was also patted down once back at Ed's side.

"Havoc," Voss responded stoically with a nonresponsive look.

'I guess these guys don't joke around,' Ed thought to himself.

By the time they were both cleared to enter the building, the knot growing in Ed's stomach had grown to the size of a fist. He was led up an elevator then down a series of corridors he was sure were designed to get the Führer out of the building as quickly as possible, if you knew which turns to take, otherwise an aspiring threat would get lost in the web. Right, right, right, left, left, then right again, and the three of them were at the entrance to the Führer's office.

Ed was about to ask what he was doing there when Sheska opened the door for him and gave him a big smile.

"Edward! Welcome back. It's so good to see you, again," she spoke in a friendly but professional manner holding a stack of files parallel to the floor with her arms straight, like a cigarette girl, selling her wares.

"Sheska," Ed greeted with a genuine smile, "good to see you, too."

"The Führer is waiting to see you. He said you could go right in as soon as you got here." She waved him over to the door using her head without any ceremony.

"Oh. Ok. Thanks," he stumbled out. He felt like he was falling; why did the Führer want to talk with him? He was just here to see Mustang, wasn't he? First the press now Führer Grumman? What had he walked into? He strode to the door, unsure if he should knock. She had said for him to go in, right?

Double doors made up the elaborate 15-foot-tall entrance to the Führer's inner office. Ed opened only the right one and walked in before closing it behind him. He stepped up to the middle of the grand square room and stood at attention, not knowing what else to do. He took in the white and wood room with his peripheral vision.

"Sir," he said as he saluted. He figured he should error on the side of caution; he used to be in this military after all, and this was the leader of Amestrian Army. He deserved respect; getting to this position took a lot of scheming and effort, just ask Mustang.

"Ah, Edward. Come in, come in," hailed a good natured old man in his early seventies with a bushel of white hair circling the sides of his balding oval head. His bushy mustache did not hide his friendly smile, nor did his circular spectacles cover his keen sight. He waved Ed to a wooden chair in front of an impressive mahogany desk with intricate Amestrian dragons carved into the woodwork.

"I hope you don't mind the detour, but I wanted to have a quick chat with you on your first day back here before you were bombarded," Grumman pleasantly toned.

"It seems I've already caught some of that this morning, sir," Ed noted conversationally as he took his seat.

"Oh, you mean the press? Not to worry, I'm sure Mustang will handle them soon enough. No, I meant with the rest of the military. But enough of that for now. What I wanted to talk with you about is both professional and personal," Grumman began as he leaned forward slightly over the desk, but stayed seated in his chair.

"Sir?" Ed replied questioningly.

"I was rather impressed with the answers you gave the Council last week, especially with the more politic questions. How long had you been preparing for that? You did handle it with care, I am sure. It was a feat to behold," Grumman praised and continued before Ed could say anything.

"Mustang is a lucky man," the Führer stated with a knowing look, one that made Ed feel uncomfortable, "but then again, you have been under his command for years, so it should be of no surprise to the rest of Amestris that you should report to him now. Be forewarned though, while you and the Brigadier General are extremely popular at the moment, there are factions within the military that want to unseat me and move us back to a military state," he cautioned.

Ed looked confused.

"Excuse me sir, but isn't Amestris already a military state?"

"I have to remind myself you have been, shall we say, out of the loop," Grumman chuckled. "After the fall of Führer King Bradley four and a half years ago, legislative control was handed over to the Civilian Assembly now in charge of creating the laws and making policy in this country. The military acts to ensure those laws and policies are carried out as well as dealing with the internal and external workings of Amestris."

"I see," Ed claimed, wondering how much of a civics lesson he was going to need to acclimate to this new Amestris he had come home to.

"We have been in wartime since _The Invaders_ came two years ago. While some may object, we will be returning to peace time conditions as of today, due in large part to your testimony."

"Because of what I said?" Ed was shocked and slightly embarrassed his words had been taken so seriously as to inform policy.

"Well, we had been considering a de-escalation since we had no evidence of aggressive actions against Amestris by _The Invaders_ in over two years. Additionally, the gate on our side had been destroyed, reducing the risk further."

"I see," Ed repeated, considering what he had heard.

"Yes, well, I wanted to make you aware of our current political climate. It seems you have a new found knack for it, judging by your service record. I might call on you to be an ambassador, seeing as you might be too high profile to do any undercover or fieldwork," Grumman asserted with a calm and pleasant demeanor.

"Sir? An ambassador?" Ed questioned as flatly as he could even though panic was building in his chest.

"Just something to think about. I wouldn't send you somewhere far away, seeing as you just got back and have your brother to contend with, but it might be an option you could pursue," the Führer acknowledged, looking pleased with Ed's response.

"Thank you, sir. I will consider any placement with all the deliberation it deserves," Ed replied to the leader of his country as vaguely as he could muster with his brain spinning the way it was.

"Just the type of answer I expected. Yes, you would do well as an ambassador," Grumman nodded to himself. "On a more personal note, it has been a pleasure to meet you. I realize this is a tad bit late for an introduction, but it is an honor to meet you Edward" he said honestly as he clasped Ed's right hand in both of his.

As Ed tried to keep his surprise at the turn of his morning from showing on his face, he smiled politely back. Grumman released his hand and sat a little more comfortably in his chair, his own smile playfully on display.

"Had we met before, I think I would have liked to watch all your antics, just as Mustang did. I was his commander in East, after all. As it is now, the best Amestris and I can do for you is offer you our sincerest thanks and give you a little fan fair. Expect a few ceremonies with pomp and circumstance for our returned hero, alright?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Ed consented, not sure what he was signing himself up for.

"Alright, well, I have kept you long enough, and I do have a country to run, so off you go. I'm sure Mustang is waiting. Feel free to review with him anything we have discussed. I trust him with my life, and those on that list are quiet few. Now off you go," Grumman dismissed Ed with shooing flicks of his wrists as he straightened up in his chair and leaned his elbows on his desk, resting his smiling face behind his linked hands.

Ah, so that's where Mustang got it from. Ed smiled back at the Führer as he retreated out of the grand office with a polite, 'Have a good day, sir,' saluting again. He met Sheska, Havoc and Voss, the security guard who had led them up, in the outer office.

"See ya later, Sheska," Havoc smiled to the bookworm with her round face and matching round glasses.

"You got it, Havoc," she smiled, then straightened when Voss gave her a severe look. "See you later, Edward," she said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, see you later," Ed replied slightly bemused by his mousy friend's response to Voss' stern exterior. Guess nobody gets along with him.

"Come on, Boss. This way," Havoc steered Ed down the empty corridor, leaving their less friendly guide behind.

It felt weird to be back here, in these white stark hallways, but it felt like coming home, too. As they rounded a corner, they began to run into more soldiers, but it was unnerving. They were all looking at him, and not just 'noticing another person' looking. They were all staring in awe with dumb ass looks on their faces.

When Ed and Havoc made it to the main juncture in the center of the building that opened to the indoor atrium, they could see clear down to the ground floor from where they stood on the sixth and highest level. Their progress was blocked by the ogling masses who kept staring at Ed.

He was feeling anxious, not sure if the masses were friendly or a mob waiting to kill him. That's when it first began. An honest to goodness slow clapping sounded first from across the open space then someone joined in to the left. More and more people began to clap until the entire building was looking at him where he was at the railing, overlooking the center of the building.

As Ed and Havoc tried to make their way down towards Mustang's office, the clapping continued, but now people were trying to touch Ed or shake hands with him. Soldiers he didn't know were reaching out to him, trying to cement the fact that he had in deed returned as he went by. Ed did his best to clasp hands and keep moving.

When he did shake someone's hand, he got variations of: 'Welcome home,' 'Glad you made it back safely,' and 'Thank you.' To these comments he answered 'Thank you' or 'It's good to be home.' By the time they got to Mustang's office on the third floor, Havoc and Breda had to strong arm the door closed while Ed said his last 'Thank you.'

"And we thought the Führer was popular," the red headed Breda accused with a smile that took up most of his plump face. He pushed his back off of the now closed door to put Ed in a headlock, and Havoc rubbed Ed's head. Ed laughingly pushed them off with his automail hand. The stitches in his left arm had been removed, but the scar along his arm was still tender, even after three weeks.

"Welcome back, Ed. We're glad you made it home," Fuery cheered with enlarged eyes that were tearing up behind his square glasses. His black spiked hair cut short, just like always.

"Good to be home," Ed said for the thousandth time, but meant every word.

"Edward, it is great to see you up and around," appraised the stoic, grey haired Falman as he stood tall, but not as stiff as he had been years ago.

"Yeah, thanks for watching our backs," Ed credited the formal man in the corner. He smiled at Ed in return.

"Edward," Hawkeye called from the doorway to Mustang's inner office. "I'm glad to have you back. We've all missed you." She brushed her straight blonde bangs out of her eyes and smiled at him in welcome.

"Thanks, Hawkeye," Ed replied to the woman he saw as an older sister. "Mustang in?"

"Yes. He was expecting you an hour ago, but I'm sure he'll give you some leeway this morning," her smile turning rueful as she moved out of the way and let him pass.

"Hey, Bastard," Ed articulated as he entered the room through the open doorway. He heard the team behind him laughing and riffling through their pockets. He turned to see them exchanging money. Weird.

-8-

"Close the door, Fullmetal," Roy ordered as he looked up from behind a stack of papers, trying to steady his breathing.

He had seen this young man every day for the past three weeks, but being alone and this close to him was a heady thing. All he wanted to do was walk over to him and… well, he couldn't. Over the past three days, he'd had to reign in his anger and frustration that yet another obstacle had been placed in his way.

Fullmetal shut the door and plopped down on his well-remembered spot on the couch. He sank into the leather, reminding Roy of all the times in the last two years he had dreamed of the man on his couch.

He was about to pinch himself to see if he was still dreaming, but then he realized that the details were too fine. The papers had words on them instead of just ink, the ceiling was an off-white solid construction not a blinding white swirl, and the man staring at him was in sharp contrast and more alluring than he remembered.

They had been dreams he had _shared_ with the man sitting on the familiar sofa in that well-known room, dreams that were still a secret, even if the connection hadn't happened in a year or so. Its sudden appearance and disappearance were still a mystery, but not one to be tackled today. He had other, more vexing, things to discuss.

"Fullmetal, it seems your time-sense needs tuning," Roy reprimanded, trying not to direct his anger at the wrong target.

"Whatever, Bastard. Blame the Führer or the throng of people outside. Havoc basically had to manhandle me through so we could get here at all," the returned man retorted brushing off the comment as best he could, but obviously feeling defensive anyways.

"The Führer," Roy repeated, needing clarification.

"Yeah. Havoc picked me up and we got swarmed by press at the back gate. Then Grumman had his goon Voss bring us up the back entrance to his office before he let us pass. Grumman offered me an appointment as an ambassador of all things, and said I should be available for some ceremonies or some bullshit like that," Fullmetal dismissed the ideas, but worry still colored his forehead about the threat of being an official.

"An ambassador," Roy couldn't help the disbelief that lined this words.

"Yeah, that's what _I_ said. Can you imagine me as an ambassador?" the golden beauty laughed then brushed his bangs back out of his face with a gloved hand. "I dunno. He figured I'd do a decent job of it after he saw how I handled my debriefing." At the movement, Roy absently wondered how that luscious frame of amber would feel like against his own touch.

"And what did you tell him?" Roy asked flatly, striving to keep his mind on point. This was his job; he was the official contact with Fullmetal and there were things he needed to say, none of which were his own thoughts.

"Basically that I'd think about it in the most ambiguous language possible. Oh, and by the way, he's leaving you with the happy task of dealing with the press," Fullmetal chuckled with false pity. "He mentioned we were in peace time now, too. Do you have any idea what you're going to tell them? It's a mad house out there," the entertained blond said as he thought about it. "Wait," he looked directly at Roy when a sudden thought struck him, "are you the one who sent Havoc to pick me up?"

"Yes," Roy confirmed a little smugly.

"Yes to which question?" the blond asked for clarification with a considering look. It almost seemed as if Fullmetal was debating how much he had been manipulated and how much it didn't surprise him.

"Both," Roy said in a self-satisfied tone. "I sent Havoc to collect you, and I have a plan for the press. Breda's got the specs, but you're going to give a press conference in which radio and news outlets will have the opportunity to ask you questions. Of course you answered all of the questions for the Generals, but this will be the public story with none of the national security details."

"Uh, OK, but are you sure you want me to do it?" the attractive blond asked anxiously. Roy in return just looked at him until he sighed and continued. "Fine. When? And how long do I have to prep? If we don't do it soon, they'll just become more belligerent," Fullmetal said and looked to be considering something, probably his stealthy entrance through a hoard of press and military personnel.

"It'll be today at two, which should give you about four hours; Breda should be alerting the major outfits as we speak." Roy paused before thinking over Fullmetal's comments, "I should ask, but did the Führer give you permission to tell me any of this?"

"Yeah. He said I could tell you anything I felt like sharing because you were one of the few people he could trust with his life. He also made a comment that you were a 'lucky man' because I would be reporting to you, but that's not what I think he meant. I think he knows, or at least has guessed, that there is something going on," Fullmetal hinted because, Roy assumed, after all of his talk in that letter, he still hadn't been able to broach the subject of that near kiss.

Before the young and tempting man in front of him could say any more on the topic, Roy slid on his most distant and disinterested look. Roy couldn't afford to let Fullmetal know how much he wanted the blond. He would have to wait until they were free to have what they wanted, but not now, as much as it was ripping him up inside. If he broke now, he knew he would give in, and everything he had built and everyone who depended on him would be at risk.

"It's good to know that the Führer thinks so highly of each of us," Roy voiced in monotone.

The brunet lifted the small loathsome stack of papers he had been trying not to burn to a crisp all weekend while ignoring the taboo topic they had danced around for the last three weeks. He took a deep breath before he began going over the forms in his hand.

"As of today, your contract with the Amestrian Army states you have another 13 months left under my command," Roy articulated the dreaded words with a heavy tongue. Fullmetal inhaled his shock while Roy continued. "I've stationed you here in Central as a plain clothes officer. No need to get a uniform. Your status as a State Alchemist will be in effect until your assessment one month from now. The evaluation is more of a formality than anything else," Roy informed, laying down each order as he went over it.

Fullmetal's jaw dropped, but Roy had more he needed to say.

"Housing has been allotted for you and your brother, so simply indicate which listing on this sheet you wish to take occupancy in and see Brigadier General Avro's office in Alchemic Affairs for the keys," he dictated as he put down another sheet.

Stunned and unable to make his alluring mouth move, Fullmetal sat dumbfounded. If Roy wasn't so irritated by the orders he was relating, he would have found the speechless hellion's antics adorable.

"I understand Ms. Rockbell has fitted you with new automail. Fill out the requisite paperwork to bill Treasury for her services. The forms haven't changed all that much since the last time you filled them out," Roy ordered as he discarded yet another page. "Ask Hawkeye to help if you need it."

Still gapping, Fullmetal looked to be trying to process what he was hearing with an unfocused gaze.

"As for pay, you may have noticed Grumman promoted you after Invasion Day and then again at the end of last week. You are now the youngest Colonel in the Amestrian army, Fullmetal," he explained as he laid down another form. "Congratulations," he added dryly. "Your monthly pay will be that of your new rank and title. Also, with your back pay over four and a half years, there is quite a substantial sum you will be receiving. You and your brother should want for nothing, and … Fullmetal, are you listening?"

The young man's mouth snapped closed, his eyes sharpening, and the old spitfire Roy had known jumped up to his feet and stomped over to the desk.

"What the fucking hell do you mean I'm still in the damn army?!" Fullmetal yelled so loud Roy was sure the team in the other room heard him.

"That's all you got out of what I just said?" Roy asked, taking an exasperated deep breath while rubbing the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "Did you even bother to read your service contract when you signed up?"

An appealing blush dusted sun-kissed cheeks. Roy supposed the young Edward Elric had read most of it, but he'd been 12 years old and not really interested in the regulations, so maybe he skipped over a few… dozen pages?

"Honestly, Fullmetal," Roy sighed putting down the remaining two pages of the stack he was holding. "When you passed your State Alchemist's Exam and joined the military, you signed on for a standard 10-year service period. That contract expires 10 years to the day that you signed on the dotted line, unless you authorize a renewal in five year increments."

"But… but then why do State Alchemists have to be evaluated every year if they are serving for 10 years?" Fullmetal's confused irritation felt more familiar than the composed man who had steadfastly sat a week in front of Central's Generals' questions. Maybe the man on the couch wasn't so different than who he had been four years ago; the thought made Roy relax. It had been slightly unnerving to watch a socially apt version of Fullmetal leading the Council of General's on a merry chase of the truth with relative ease.

"State Alchemists are evaluated to show the State that they are moving forward on research paid for by the State. Did you ever stop to ask what happens to those that do not pass?" Roy challenged as he raised his linked hands to hide his mouth.

"Don't they lose their certification and get kicked to the curb?" The supposed genius asked naively.

"You're half right. State Alchemists that do not pass lose their certification, but they aren't 'kicked to the curb.' They are demoted to an enlisted Corporal in the army ranks until their contract is up without being eligible for promotion or allowed to use alchemy in their duties."

"Oh," Fullmetal articulated hollowly, seeming numb.

"So, as I was saying," Roy began again, picking up the last couple sheets.

"I'll talk to Al, pick out a place to live, and bill Win's costs to Treasury," Fullmeatl resolved hollowly, resigned to his fate. "How'd you know about the new parts?" Before Roy could answer, he shook his head and laughed without feeling. "Nevermind. It's you after all; you know everything." Then he paused, looking sheepishly at the floor. "I think I know, but what are the regulations on dating?"

Roy's heart skipped and then plummeted off the edge of the tight rope he'd been walking on.

"Outside the chain of command, it's acceptable, but within…" and Roy couldn't bring himself to say it; it was too well lodged in his throat.

"But within it's against the rules, isn't it?" Fullmetal said sorrowfully, and Roy felt his heart cringe.

"Yes," Roy confirmed and he let his mask fall just enough to hopefully let Fullmetal see the anguish he'd been feeling since Friday afternoon when he'd heard Grumman's edict.

-8-

Ed stood there in silence meeting Mustang's gaze, Ed's heart crumbling while he saw the glimmer of how much Mustang wanted it to be otherwise.

"What's the deal with transferring departments?" Ed asked, unsure if changing his commanding officer would be enough to allow them what they both seemed to want. When Mustang was Führer and if Ed was still in the army, wouldn't he always be under Mustang's chain of command anyway? What about when Ed was no longer in the army? Didn't Mustang say there was only another 13 months left on his contract?

"Unfortunately, if you wanted a transfer, that isn't going to happen," Mustang stated, but seeing the confusion in Ed's eyes he pressed forward with his default smirk. "After your artful display at handling your 'mission' and the Brass in turn, the Council became more of an auction house. Almost every General there was vying for you to be assigned to their department."

"Are you serious?" Ed demanded in confusion, creasing his brow. "Why?" He didn't know how he felt about being up for 'auction' like some piece of property.

"It was rather entertaining, actually," Mustang continued, not hiding his hurt and disappointment behind his mask fast enough for Ed to miss it. Why was this happening? "The other Generals claimed various reasons for needing your famous skills and much tamer tone, but after about 20 minutes or so Grumman had had enough. He ordered that you stay in your current chain of command, to which I was treated with various versions of envious or angry glares."

At that last comment, Ed laughed. It was ridiculous. The Generals were fighting over him? How bizarre. And Mustang had won? Now Ed understood Grumman's remark earlier about Mustang being lucky.

"Well, we'll just have to wait then," concluded Ed after a stunned pause during which he absorbed the change in his situation. He plastered on his large, fake smile. "After all, we've waited this long, haven't we?"

"You shouldn't have to wait, Fullmetal," Mustang spoke before he seemed to be able to stop himself. What was he saying?

"Huh? But you just said…" Ed was confused. Was the General going to throw out the rules just to be with him? His heart began to beat faster as he leaned forward onto the desk to make their eyes level. "What about all the people who are relying on you and all that you've worked for your entire career?" Could Ed let Mustang throw all that away on a chance they would work?

-8-

"I'm saying you're young and shouldn't have to wait to be with anyone. There are plenty of people who will want to be with you, and who knows what will happen in a year." Roy couldn't believe he was telling the man he wanted, who was finally home and not a foot in front of him, to see other people.

'Shut up, Roy! Shut up, shut up, shut up!' He yelled at himself. What the hell was he doing?

-8-

"You want me to date other people?" Ed asked in disbelief, pushing back and off the desk, as if he had been punched in the gut. He felt like his brief excitement in thinking Mustang wanted him regardless of rules or responsibilities was turning sour in his stomach. Mustang had wrenched his heart out and was showing it to him, pointing out the flaws in an unscientific organ.

"I'm just saying that a lot can happen in a year," Mustang repeated sadly, breaking eye contact. He reached into his drawer and pulled out Ed's new pocket watch. Laying it on the papers he had been going over. He rose from his chair and turned to look at the winter's day out the windows behind his desk.

Ed watched Mustang's progress, unable to say anything as he straightened. He leaned down to pick up the papers and watch, feeling the weight of the responsibilities attached to such a small object made of intricately moving parts.

They stood like that for a while. Both trying to grasp what had just spiraled out of control.

"Is that all, General?" Ed asked in his best attempt at respectful subordinate, not a man hiding a broken heart.

-8-

"Yes. Meet up with Breda for your approved answers and figure out the logistics of the press conference. Then meet with Hawkeye to get you settled in the office," Roy commanded using the cold damp air coming off the windows to keep his good eye from tearing. Why had he just ruined his chance? Was he really so self-destructive? Maes would have called him a fool.

"Alright, General," the blond complied mechanically then moved to leave.

As Fullmetal left his office, Roy saw the younger man's reflection look back at him, wanting to say something more, but leaving before he did. Instead, Roy was left alone in his cavernous room as it began to snow outside the window.

-8-

Ed made it out without verbalizing what he wanted to say. He had turned around at the last minute, like the coward he was. He had wanted to tell Mustang to hang the rules and then just kiss the bastard, but that felt wrong now. Obviously Mustang didn't want him enough to wait, didn't want him enough to put anything on the line.

Not that Ed could really blame him for it. Mustang had worked his entire career to become Führer and people's lives depended on him reaching his goal. Mustang wouldn't just throw all that away for him.

How could he have thought that Mustang would, even for a second? How delusional was he? And if he really thought about it, could Ed respect a man that threw away his whole life's work and everyone who depended on him for a gamble? Ed's heart constricted. No, he couldn't, and the fact that Mustang hadn't thrown it all away just made him fall for that damn bastard even more.

Well, fuck.

The team looked to a somber Ed, and no one made a move. It was rare for any of them to see him so down.

"Being in the military ain't so bad, Boss," Havoc prompted trying to raise the young man's spirits.

"Yeah," Fuery chimed in with a smile pointing his pen in the air. "Imagine all the people you can help."

"Plus, being a State Alchemist has its perks," Breda offered wagging his eyebrows.

"You can do all the research you want," Falman added seriously.

"And, you'll have us," Hawkeye said with an understanding smile.

"Yeah," Ed agreed, plastering his fake smile back on his face, touched by their words of encouragement, "it's not so bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I'm slammed with well-meaning family and friends who all want to see my husband and me before we move next weekend to North Dakota from California. Since I won't have regular internet access during the week long drive across country, I will be posting two (2!) chapters next week. And just in case my internet isn't set up when I get there, as soon as I am a real person again (albeit an anonymous online writer) I will post as soon as I can, so please don't worry if I'm not back right away =).


	27. Chapter 27

***Press Conference***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

 

Breda and Ed had planned out everything they could in the time they’d been allotted. Mustang would be there to step in if anyone asked any questions he hadn’t asked Ed to prep, but Breda would be running this dog and pony show.

Ed was waiting in the hall behind the room the press conference was being held in, and he couldn’t help remembering how he and Al had stolen a bomb once from a place with a similar layout. He smiled to himself.

‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘I’ll think about good times to keep my smile genuine or I’ll be eaten alive.’

Just then, the door off to his side opened as Breda was saying, “… the Fullmetal Alchemist, Colonel Edward Elric.”

That was his cue. Grinning a placating smirk at his new title, he shook his head that they had promoted him without his consent… again. Rolling his eyes, he instead focused on Breda’s advice to him earlier that day. ‘Think about something good. Use happy memories to keep your smile natural; otherwise, they’ll chew you up and spit you out.’

So, Ed tried to focus on all of the adventures he’d had with his brother. He smiled as he entered the waiting room. Polite applause was speckled with flash bulbs that popped and filled his vision with remnants of lights.

He walked up to the table still smiling like a loon, then he took his seat as the room was filled with questions that jumbled together so that he couldn’t decipher them. Breda and Fuery rushed to adjust the bouquet of microphones to his height so that the photographers would get pictures of his face without any obstructions. His smile broadened as he thought about the rant he would have gone on in his younger years at the implication that he was too short. He was now a respectable height and could refrain without a care.

“Guess I haven’t grown as much as I thought, huh, fellas?” The crowd laughed genuinely while Fuery, Breda, and Mustang tried desperately to keep their cool exteriors. From the corner of his eye, Ed could see them only let small smiles play at their lips as they took their positions behind the table, off to the side.

“Hello everyone, my name is Edward Elric. It’s nice to meet you. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you all for giving me your time, either by coming out to this little get together or tuning in on your wireless,” Ed professed with a grin as he remembered Al fixing a radio in Lior years ago. “First I’d like to say a few words, and then I will answer as many questions as I can before our time is up.

“It’s great to be back in Central after being away from home for so long. As some of you may have guessed, I have been on an undercover mission that has finally concluded. Because some of the details are classified for national security reasons, I hope you will understand that I can’t tell you everything, but I will answer everything that I can,” Ed promised with a winning smile while using Breda’s words. “First question?”

A babble broke out and Ed pointed to a squat brunet man in a tweed jacket and a bushy beard.

“F. Cole from ABN, the Amestrian Broadcast Network. First, congratulations on your promotion to be the youngest Colonel in Amestrian history, Mr. Elric,” he began politely then became more severe, “but where have you been for the past four and a half years?”

“Thank you, Mr. Cole,” Ed acknowledged the mercurial man’s praise even though the promotion was total shit. He’d done what needed to be done, nothing to get all crazy over and especially without his consent. Internally, he rolled his eyes at the accusation of his missing years. “The question is ‘where have I been,’” Ed repeated into the multitude of microphones in front of him. He was glad Breda had told him to repeat the questions because he was sure the devices had not picked up the man’s voice. He made sure to do it for each question. “Without giving too much away,” Ed prefaced, “I have been on assignment making sure that _The Invaders_ are not able to attack Amestris again.”

Again, Breda had prepped him to use the press’ buzz phrase ‘ _The Invaders_ ’ to make sure he kept the focus where the military wanted it. His response sent up a melee of other questions from the crowd. Ed pointed to another reporter, this one a tall, thin blond woman, wearing glasses and an expensive skirt suit. He couldn’t help but notice the second reporter’s appearance was the opposite from the first. He kept to this strategy to make sure he was entertained, so his smile would stay sincere.

“R. Locke, Central Times. Colonel, were you successful in your mission?”

“Was my mission successful? I think so, yeah. As of today, I am proud to announce, by order of Führer Grumman, Amestris is at peace for the first time in two years.” The audience snapped photos and called more questions, but Ed continued. “ _The Invaders_ should no longer be a threat, which is why I was able to return.”

They figured they would try to downplay Al’s involvement. That way Al could live as normal a life as possible. Also, they wanted to keep the fact that Al usually went on missions with Ed a secret, so if Al ever did tag along again, their cover wouldn’t immediately be blown.

Ed pointed out a third reporter, a bald man in a somewhat grubby looking suit.

“A. Sandalwood, Central Today. Mr. Elric, were you and your brother the anonymous alchemists on Invasion Day that helped save Central?”

“Yes. Brigadier General Roy Mustang, my brother, and I are responsible for destroying the rocket powered airships on Invasion Day while the brave men and women of the Amestrian Army effectively fought off their ground troops. I commandeered their last ship and used that to return to their base of operation before destroying it.”

That earned him some sincere approval from the room as pins flew across pages and cameras flashed anew. Ed pointed to the next interviewer, a slim man in vertical stripes, or at least that’s what he thought the guy looked like; he was kinda blinded by the bright spots in his vision at the moment.

“N. Hart, The Standard. Fullmetal, there were unconfirmed reports that you and your brother had sustained injuries recently. Can you comment on your health?”

“My brother and I are both recovering from some minor injuries we received on our way home. We’ll be good as new in no time,” Ed confirmed as he beamed. Breda and he had agreed not to use Al’s name so that those who did not look it up would not immediately recognize him, again giving Al privacy. Ed indicated to a short man in a green suit and black tie.

“C. Hunt, Radio News Central. How are you settling back into life in Central?”

“How am I settling back in? Well, I am currently house hunting at the moment, and I just picked out my desk this morning in the new office, so I’d say it’s going fairly well.” Ed was glad he had called Al to let him know about the housing list and the news conference. He and the Rockbells should be listening in; Ed hoped that Al had called Gracia at her shop, too; he hadn’t had the time. The next reporter Ed chose was a head taller than his peers and had hazel eyes.

“H. Ackerman, Freelance. Where have you been staying since you returned?”

“After being debriefed, I’ve been staying with family friends here in Central.” Ed made sure that he did not mention the Hughes or Rockbell families by name. Even though it would have been great for Gracia’s flower shop or Rockbell Automail, it would have been a nuisance and a possible danger for them. The following newsman had gray eyes and was as plump as his chestnut mustache was bushy.

“E. Simmons, Alchemists Today. Colonel Elric, are you still a State Alchemist?”

“Yes, I am still the Fullmetal Alchemist,” Ed replied adding with a charmingly devious smile. “I’m just a little taller.” That earned him a room full of chuckles before he selected the brunette voluptuous woman in a blue skirt set.

“S. Yarnelle, The Times. Fullmetal, will you be reevaluated soon to keep your State Alchemist’s Certification?”

Ed glanced at Mustang out of the corner of his eye and saw him nod. So, it was alright to answer this question? Better make it short and sweet.

“Yeah. I’ll be reevaluated as a State Alchemist this time next month, so wish me luck,” Ed broadcasted with cheer as most of the reporters smiled at his good humor. That question was a little more informed and off book, but he figured he'd handled it well; he’d keep an eye out for Ms. Yarnelle in the future. Next Ed picked out a capable looking older man in brown wool.

“C. Sullivan, Daily News Radio. Mr. Elric, have you had a chance to meet the Xingese Ambassadors yet? Can you tell us your impressions of the Royal Siblings, Prince Ling and Princess May?”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t had the honor of meeting our guests from the East.” Breda had prepped him on the visitors Mustang had mentioned to him during one of their dreams. Ed doubted he would ever meet them, but he didn’t want to bait them on national radio either, inviting himself to a meet. Quickly, he pointed to a squirrelly looking man with buck teeth.

“A. Ore, Amestris Today. Fullmetal, were you, your brother, or Brigadier General Mustang responsible for the fall of Führer King Bradley?”

The room went silent as they awaited his answer.

“Were we responsible for the fall of Führer King Bradley? Honestly, I was already on my own assignment when Führer Bradley’s regime fell, and since I’ve been undercover with little access to current events, I hadn’t heard about it until my return home. Turns out, I’m going to need one heck of a civics lesson.”

That earned him another round of chuckles, breaking the frigid air that had filled the nervous room. He was glad Breda had been able to spin that piece of half-truth; after all, he had known Mustang had been heading off to kill the homunculus Führer right before Ed’s own battle with Dante.

 

-8-

 

Fighting a smirk at his own wordsmithing, Breda leaned over to his CO.

“If he gets anymore charismatic, we’re all in trouble,” he whispered without moving his lips, a required skill when you were supporting Mustang, while looking conspicuously at his pocket watch. And it was true; Ed had them eating out of his hands. Breda stepped forward then and said, “We have time for one final question.”

Then Ed pointed to a man in an impeccable three-piece suit, and Breda internally cringed at his choice.

 

-8-

 

“C. Kohl, The Amestrian. Edward, are you currently seeing anyone? Listeners want to know, do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend out there, or are you available and on the market?”

Ed’s gut spasmed, as his smile began to strain. He had to block the reflex to look at Mustang.

“No,” he replied with his faux grin in place, “no girlfriend or boyfriend. I’m between significant others at the moment.” Well, they hadn’t planned for that one, but it would have been awkward if someone tried to shield him from it.

“That’s all the time we have for questions,” Breda came to his rescue. “Please see the press release for an official statement. Thank you for your time.”

“Thanks, again,” Ed added as he stood still smiling trying to think of a happy thought, but not succeeding. Breda motioned for him to exit the way he’d come in, and he was glad to leave.

‘Damn it,’ he cursed to himself as Fuery opened the door and led him into the hall. ‘Didn’t see that one coming, and I’m sure it’ll bite me in the ass sooner or later. Fuck.’ He shook his head at the whole situation. Of course he was going to be asked about his dating life on national radio right after his heart had been dropkicked. Damn it!

“Sorry about that last one, Ed,” Breda apologized as the door closed behind the red head and Mustang. “Didn’t think they’d get personal like that, but we’ll set something up next time so you don’t get bombarded with mountains of fan mail.” His brow bunched at the thought. “Good thing you don’t have a home address yet, or it’d be over flowing in no time,” he joked but all the men nodded at the possibility around a skeptical Ed. “Guess we’ll have to sort it at the office. At least it’ll save you the trouble of bringing it in. How’s your penmanship?” the PR expert asked dubiously.

“Uh…” Ed stalled.

“It hasn’t improved much,” Mustang commented leading their group back to the office with a slight smirk, probably remembering the three coded letters Ed had given him in that envelope upon arrival. Whatever. It wasn’t Ed’s fault that he was right handed, and automail didn’t mimic fine motor skills as well as he’d like.

Fuery and Breda tried not to laugh.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Breda chortled but looked resigned. “Well, at least we can come up with some basic replies to the common questions. We can have ‘em typed up, so all you’ll have to do is sign ‘em before we send ‘em out.” Breda was in full PR mode now. “The crazies we’ll send to Intelligence to get checked out.”

Ed just gave him a look like the overweight Lieutenant had said pigs could fly on bubble bee wings. He doubted that anyone would write him fan mail, but once they returned to the office, he had to rethink his position. The phones kept ringing off the hook with follow up questions for him. Fuery was hard pressed to set up addition lines to handle all the excess calls.

It was a little after half past 3 PM; if Ed was going to meet Al and the representative from Alchemist Affairs to see a few houses today, he’d need to go soon. He felt bad leaving the team to clean up his post conference mess, but he had orders to follow, too.

 

-8-

 

“Fullmetal,” Roy called from his office over the ringing of phones, taking his seat as his Colonel acknowledged his request. His brash yet slightly more sophisticated agent walked stiffly into Roy’s office. He could tell the young man was agitated, and it was not hard to guess why.

While the press conference had gone more or less as expected, except for Fullmetal easily charming the media, Roy had been shocked to hear the last reporter ask about Fullmetal’s relationship status. After the question had been spoken, Roy had seen the young blond’s lithe posture stiffen for a moment; then, Roy’d had to stand unmoving, unable to speak, as the man he had just turn down admit on State wide radio that he was available. It served Roy right.

Overcome with déjà vu, he now stood alone with Fullmetal in his office. He did not want to remember their last conversation in this room. It was still too raw, especially after the closing question. The man he wanted most would be the most sought after bachelor in Central… no in all of Amestris. It was like Roy was trying to keep sunbeams in his hand; he could see the golden rays, but he could not touch them.

“What, Mustang?” Fullmetal asked, sounding annoyed and defensive. “I stayed to the script as best as I could. It’s not my fault we got a few questions we hadn’t prepped.”

“I was going to say, ‘Job well done,’” Roy countered a little taken aback, immediately falling into his signature pose, elbows down and linked hands up. So much for hoping they could stay civil.

“Really? No sass about taking questions off-script?” Fullmetal asked with sass of his own. It was obvious in golden eyes that the man knew he was being petty, but doing it anyway. It seemed he couldn’t help it; Roy chose to take it as the amber toned youth was hurting more than he wanted to admit instead of being a petulant child.

“Well, I could give you a hard time about all the short jokes, but I think you took them all,” Roy smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Bastard. You’re just mad I got all the laughs first,” Fullmetal tried to tease, but his heart wasn’t in it, so it fell flat. “Look, I need to go meet Al to look at houses, so if there’s nothing else...”

“Ok, Fullmetal. Report back tomorrow morning at 9 AM and we’ll put you to work,” Roy promised from behind his stoic mask.

“Fine,” the younger officer replied offhandedly, and Roy tried not to let the space between them bother him.

“And Fullmetal, don’t make plans for tomorrow evening. I think the team is going to take you out to the local watering hole.” Roy forewarned as he settled back behind his stacks of paperwork.

“Really, what for?” Fullmetal asked sincerely, curiosity burning behind molten eyes.

“For your birthday, I would imagine,” Roy replied as he began signing orders, and focusing on not letting the sooth burn of that gaze engulf him.

 

-8-

 

Ed looked at him in surprise. Tomorrow was his birthday? He did some rapid mental checks.

“Well, shit,” Ed laughed a stunted chuckle, stunned. “I guess it is.”

“You mean you forgot your own birthday?” Mustang smirked in disbelief as he put his pen down and looked up at Ed’s laughing.

“Well, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Can you blame me?” Ed asked as he walked towards the door. Then thinking more about it, he turned around to ask, “Anyway, how’d you know it was my birthday?” Instantly, he regretted it; did he really want to know if Mustang cared enough to remember or didn’t care enough and had just heard the team talking about it.

“I…” Roy began, uncertainty falling over his features; he had just rejected Ed that morning.

“Never mind,” Ed cut the General off. “Forget I asked,” he added as he closed his CO’s door behind him.

‘I don’t want to know either way,’ Ed thought as he walked out of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I am currently in the middle of moving cross country with my husband and four cats in one car! Hahaha! I am also going to post one more chapter, but this week's chapter will be posted next week along with a second chapter. Wish me luck!


	28. Chapter 28

***Home Sweet Home***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

 

“Brother! It has dual master suites!” Alphonse called from upstairs.

Noticing that Brother was tired from his long day. After seeing three other houses in less than three hours, Alphonse could tell Brother was becoming exhausted.

“Your younger brother seems to like this one,” Alphonse heard a sultry voice say below him. It belonged to the smiling red headed woman who had kindly shown them the four properties that met his and Brother’s quickly drawn up criteria. All Brother wanted was an en suite bathroom and an office/library for himself, and Alphonse could have whatever he wanted. The State was footing the bill after all.

‘Doing anything to keep their State Alchemists happily producing alchemical advances,’ he supposed.

Alphonse wanted at least three bedrooms, one for each of them and a guest room for when Winry came to visit. He also wanted two bathrooms and for each of them to have an office, if that were possible.

“Al,” Brother called, “come down here so we can compare notes.”

“I’ll just wait in the other room,” hummed Betty, the woman with the flirty smile. “Remember, Mr. Elric,” Alphonse heard her telling his brother as he traveled down the stairs, “you have the option to have any one of the houses I’ve showed you furnished or unfurnished.”

“Sounds great,” Brother replied politely if slightly distracted. “When’s the earliest we could move in?”

“If you want a furnished place, then they are each move-in ready. Technically, you could move in tonight, but if you want any one of them unfurnished, you’d have to wait a week for us to move the furniture out,” she explained. “As you can see, the furniture is a little outdated, but will suit your basic needs. If you change your mind, we can always bring in or move out furniture as needed, but again, that will take about a week or more depending on how picky you are in your choices. The guys in the warehouse might need to dig around storage to find all the pieces you might request.”

“Really? We could ask for any change in furniture we need?” Alphonse said as he came down off the stairs catching the end of their conversation.

“Certainly,” Betty assured them as she puckered her lips a little in Brother’s direction. “Anything for the Fullmetal Alchemist,” she winked, but Brother wasn’t biting. She walked out of the room sashaying her hips just in case while Alphonse arched an eyebrow.

“Uh… Brother?” Alphonse raised an eyebrow. He hesitated as he watched her leave the room, and then focused on Brother.

“Yeah, Al?” Brother turned to him with interest, obviously happy to be called the affectionate nickname again. Alphonse felt slightly guilty for having avoided it for so long, but was making up for it now.

“Is this going to be a thing?” asked Alphonse with exasperation.

“A thing…” Brother repeated flatly, sounding so much like Brigadier General Mustang it was funny.

“Yeah, you know… Women throwing themselves at you?” Alphonse indicated the woman who had just left them in the kitchen.

“How should I know?” Brother turned away, but his ears signaled his blush.

“Well, she certainly seems open to…” Alphonse teased, knowing that for the past few weeks Brother had been trying to hide his interest in Brigadier General Mustang, and vise-versa. The only question Alphonse had was when this development had started. It wasn’t that long ago that Brother had been the General’s underage subordinate.

“So, Al,” Brother spoke in a rush, “what do you think about our options? Pros and cons of House #1. It didn’t have any en suite bathrooms, but it had that great library space with all that natural light. We could use it as a joint library.”

“Yeah, but House #2 had all those bedrooms,” Alphonse magnanimously allowed Brother to change the subject with a knowing smirk. “We would definitely have enough space for us to each have our own rooms, a guest room, an office each and still have another room for whatever we wanted. You could have the room with the en suite bathroom, but it’s upstairs,” Alphonse sounded disappointed.

“So?” Brother voiced, not really caring, but curious enough to ask.

“So… if you break your automail leg, how are you going to get up and down the stairs by yourself? Plus, there were only the two bathrooms. What happens if we have guests?”

“Ok, well, what about House #3? It had that great big kitchen, but it was short on bedrooms. We could each have a room, a guest room, but we’d have to share a work space. I don’t mind so much, but you get crabby if I don’t put a book away right after I use it,” Brother taunted, smiling at his younger brother’s ideas about how to do research properly.

“Yeah,” Alphonse scrunched up his face playfully in return, “but then someone else can find it when they need it, Brother. Anyways, it only had the one bathroom.”

“Ok, so House #4. I think I like it the best. It has the dual en suite bathrooms in the two masters, a guest space, and room for two offices. And it has the mythical third and fourth bathrooms you were looking for,” Brother ticked off on his fingers.

“Yeah, and one of the masters and an office space are on the main level. You can have those,” Alphonse offered. “Plus, there’s a bathroom for guests on this floor as well. The guest room, a guest bath and my spaces can be upstairs.”

“Well, the kitchen isn’t really big,” Brother considered as he took in the size of the room they were standing in.

“But it’s big enough,” Alphonse weighed in, stretching out his arm span.

“Oh, Mr. Elric, I forgot to mention,” called the red head from the hall doorway, batting her eye lashes. “There is a whole other space in the basement not on the official listing or blueprints.”

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. Without another word, Brother turned to Betty and smiled.

“We’ll take it. I’ll make the furniture arrangements tomorrow at your office. Fourth floor, right?” Brother confirmed.

“Yes, it is,” she not-so-subtly pushed her arms together when she clasped her hands, making her cleavage pop out just a little.

Alphonse blushed at her overt ministrations to peak his brother’s interest, but he was excited they were going to have a place of their own for the first time in 9 years. Brother rolled his eyes at Alphonse, obviously not in the mood for her flirtations right now either. Then a gleam in Brother's eye caught Alphonse's attention. Uh oh; this could be trouble.

“Where do we sign for this place, as is?” Brother asked with a smile he was perfecting. Alphonse knew he was trying for mischievous but in a ‘fun and exciting’ way. As much as Brother hated to admit it, Alphonse knew this smile was crafted from a blend between Mustang and their father’s flirting techniques; Brother had seen more than his fair share of them each at it over the years, or so he said. Alphonse thought Brother nearly had it, too, if her unsteady breath was any way to judge.

“Oh, uh, um,” she swallowed. “You just have to sign here, Mr. Elric,” she finally got out as she lifted her attaché to the butcher board counter top and sifting through the forms. “I brought the paper work with us,” she affirmed, flustered as she dug in her bag.

“Great, and call me Ed,” he beamed as he reached across her personal space slowly and retrieved the pen from the counter on her far side, making her inhale sharply.

‘Brother…’ thought Alphonse. ‘Be kind to the lady. You still have to see her tomorrow.’

After she filled out the address, Brother signed where she indicated. When he had filled out all 10 pages, all with duplicate carbon copies, Brother and Betty shook hands. By now she had gotten over her shock at Brother’s flirtatious reciprocation and centered herself again; this time she tried to take the lead.

“Congratulations, Mr. Elric, you have a lovely new home,” she ogled him as she slid her finger suggestively along the back of the hand she was holding. “Please stop by anytime to place your furniture exchange request,” she solicited, and Alphonse was surprised at how she had made that sound like an open invitation for sex. “I’ll be sure to put yours at the top of the list,” she winked.

“Oh,” Brother spoke distractedly as a thought crossed his mind. “What is the phone number here?”

“It’s right here,” Betty pointed to a line on the fourth page. “I can call it tonight to make sure that it’s connected and turned on for you, if you want,” she cooed full of innuendo while biting her lower lip and looking Ed in the eye. She leaned forward, breasts first.

How much more obvious do you need to be? Or oblivious? Alphonse was standing right next to them.

“Yes, and while I am sure we would both appreciate that,” He cleared his voice and politely declined, “I think we will be out late tonight. Thank you for the thought though.”

Betty chittered an embarrassed laugh as she straightened, seeming to remember that Alphonse was still there.

This was going to get old quickly. Alphonse had noticed that women usually flirted with his brother, not to mention a few men, but Brother had never reciprocated before.

They would be in trouble if Brother began flirting indiscriminately. He was already showing his prodigy’s skill for it, and to be honest, when Brother put his mind to anything, he usually accomplished his goals.

Alphonse hung his head. Yes, they were going to get into so much trouble.


	29. Chapter 29

***Birthday Plans***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

Night was gaining as the Elrics returned to the Hughes household through a light dusting of snow. Before leaving their new house, Ed and Al had made an inventory of all their current furniture, dimensions of each room, and drawn hasty sketches of their layout. Then the brothers had quickly said goodbye to the overly flirtatious Betty, and Ed had again promised to come see her tomorrow for furniture requests.

On their way back to Gracia's that night, they also stopped to pick up a few gifts for their pseudo little sister, Elicia's, 9th birthday tomorrow. Ed couldn't help spoiling the little girl who had been born on his birthday. After all, he had missed the last four.

Orange sky faded into deep indigo behind a myriad of grey clouds as Ed and Al turned onto the Hughes' street. Their bagged purchases filled their arms as they walked down the familiar snowy lane lined with winter stripped trees. The sight reminded Ed of the first time he'd felt the hominess of this neighborhood road.

"Hey Al," he spoke into their contented silence.

"Hmm," Al hummed, turning to face his brother.

"Remember my 12th birthday," he asked with a genuine smile pulling at his lips at the memory, "and Hughes brought us home with him?"

"Oh, yeah," his younger brother glanced up into the sky as he recalled the day. "He came to get us up from Tucker's house."

"Can you believe it's been almost nine years to the day?" Ed asked, looking down the darkened street as if no time had passed. "When he showed up that day, I thought it was weird that a guy I barely knew, except for saving him on that train, was bringing us home to meet his wife and throw me a birthday party." He chuckled to himself.

"Yeah," Al breathed, nostalgia filling the brisk air. "I guess time really does fly, huh, Brother?"

"I wish Hughes was here. He really was the best man I've ever known," Ed said solemnly, pausing in remembrance of their fallen friend. "Come to think of it, he still is."

It was true. No matter what world he was in, Brigadier General Maes Hughes was the standard. The man had sheltered him, cared for him, let him make his own way in the world, and helped him where he could. Hughes had been a model husband and father, a true military man, and a promising leader. Ed knew he would never be as good a man as Hughes had been, but he could try.

"Yeah," Al nodded his agreement as the wind brushed by them, as if to encircle them in a cool breeze, a cold embrace.

"You know what, Al?" Ed asked. Reawakened from his thoughts, he walked the last twenty yards and forward nine years to the little yellow and white three-bedroom house, determination filling him. "I'm going to do everything I can to be there for Elicia, and tell her what an amazing man her father was," he promised.

"Me, too," Al said resolutely with a smile, stepping in time to Ed's pace. "We'll let her know all about how her dad spent his life protecting others," he added firmly.

Thinking about it, Ed knew he would try to be the best big brother to her he could. It was the least he could do for his little sister.

"Hey Al? Can you go in and distract Elicia while I hide her presents?" Ed asked hopefully, reaching the door and stopping there.

"You got it, Brother," Al chimed happily as he held out the packages in an outstretched hand.

"If you keep her busy, I can even get one wrapped to give her after dinner, if it's alright with Gracia," Ed pushed, taking the bags from his brother. Not that playing with Elicia was a chore, but the energetic girl was definitely smart enough to figure out a ruse if given the chance.

"Yeah. Good idea," Al considered out loud. "Give her that one tonight," he pointed to the last bag he had transferred, "then she can sleep with it if she wants, but you have to be the one to tell Gracia we're moving out, Brother. She's been so nice to us; I feel bad about leaving."

"Ok, Al. It's a deal. She's been great, but I don't think she'd mind a little more space," Ed confided with a grin.

Decision made, they nodded to each other. Then Al opened the door.

"I'm back," Al called as he entered, leaving the door slightly ajar. Ed could hear Elicia's squeal of delight and Al's promised distraction.

"Welcome back, Alphonse," Gracia's melodic voice said, wrapping Ed in warmth, even from outside the doorway.

"Big Brother Al! Come play dollies with me," Elicia chimed in excitedly, and Ed could imagine the grin she would be wearing.

"Let's go upstairs, and we can play there until dinner is ready," Al coaxed their little sister into her room while Ed imagined Al gave Gracia a nonverbal greeting. His younger brother was too polite not to.

When the chatter was muffled by the upstairs door shutting firmly behind the duo, Ed snuck into the comfortable house and headed for the brothers' room upstairs. It had been Hughes' office once upon a time before being converted into a guest room some time ago. Ed thought about the man who had looked out for him like a father, and missed Maes Hughes even more.

Elicia's giggles from the next room over reminded him why he was here. Quickly hiding their other purchases in the closet, Ed wrapped the gift he and Al had bought. Once satisfied that the paper packaging wouldn't open on accident, he headed out to meet their host in the kitchen downstairs.

"Hi, Gracia. I'm back," he announced as he came in through the hall. She was busy making a delicious smelling dinner. It made his mouth water, all her food did.

"Oh, hello, Edward. I didn't hear you come in. Welcome back," she smiled a welcoming grin as she stirred the pot of stew; it was his favorite.

"I asked Al to distract Elicia so I could hide her presents," he confessed, leaning against the counter top. "We were wondering, since Mustang's team plans to take me out to for my birthday tomorrow after work, would it be alright if we gave Elicia one of her gifts tonight after dinner? I don't think we'll be back early enough to do it tomorrow."

"That sounds wonderful, Edward. It's so sweet of you to think of her," Gracia's eyes softened as she looked at him. "Help me set the table?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course," he smiled at his pseudo-mother while he lightly pushed off from the counter top. "I have a soft spot for the little chatterbox," he confided, "plus, I've missed so much of her life."

"That's alright, Edward. She's always had you here, even when you were gone," she told him with cheer in her eyes. "She would play 'Alchemist' and clap to 'transmute,' just like you do. She never forgot you." Gracia confided as she passed him a stack of six plates for him to lay out.

He felt his heart melt at her words, but couldn't say a word as he began to set the table for the Hughes, Rockbell, and Elric families, his family. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and when it cleared, he continued.

"Al and I were just remembering the first birthday I had here. It was really something special. It's not every birthday that you get to watch a new life come into the world," he grinned at her.

"It really was a wonderful day, wasn't it?" Gracia smiled warmly at him as she remembered. She stirred absently as she handed him spoons and napkins to place out. "So how did your meeting with Roy go?" She prompted Ed, pulling the ladle out and blowing on it before she offered it to him as he walked back to her.

"I guess it was alright," he remarked, taking the silverware and cloths. He leaned in and tried a taste. "Wow. That's really good," he complemented, and she beamed.

"Glad you like it," she said affectionately.

"You make the best tasting food I've ever had, no matter what world I'm in," he told her honestly and was rewarded with a proud smile. It always warmed his heart to see her maternal smile, especially when it was for him.

"Thank you, Edward. You really are a sweet boy, but you're all grown up now, aren't you," she realized as innocent laughter played in the air from upstairs. "Not that you were ever really allowed to be a child."

Her sadness at the contrast wrenched at his heart. He didn't want Gracia to feel saddened at the loss of his childhood; that was another reason he wanted to be there for Elicia. This way his little sister would never have to grow up too soon.

"Naw. It's alright, Gracia," he lied with his fake smile. "I had Al, Winry, Granny, the team, Hughes, you and Elicia," he countered, walking around the edge of the table, placing the flatware and table linen down on it. Deciding to redirect the conversation he asked, "Did you catch the broadcast this afternoon?"

"Who didn't? It made quite the stir," she prompted him.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her. "So, it turns out I still have a little over a year on my military contract left," Ed hedged, wondering how to bring up the move as he came back to her side.

"And they're holding you to it?" She demanded, getting angry for his sake. "Considering all you have done? That just doesn't seem fair!"

"Yeah, well, contracts are contracts," he blew off her concern, keeping his fake smile in place to keep her from overly worrying about him. She began handing him glasses to add to the table as he continued. "Anyways, I get to keep my State Certification until I'm reassessed next month, so they gave me housing. That's where Al and I were earlier, but I don't want to tell Elicia until after her birthday."

"Yes, she might not take it well that her big brothers are moving out for her birthday," Gracia aptly reasoned. "We can tell her after her party Saturday. You do know that you and Alphonse are still expected to come to family dinners at least once a month, right, Edward?" She said with a love and affection he had missed for so long.

"Wouldn't miss it," he promised with an honest grin.

"But you were saying…" she urged him to continue. "You got a house?"

"Just signed for it today," Ed recounted. "We picked out a place close to Central Command. It's right near the center of town. That way, when Al decides what he wants to do, he'll be close to everything."

"That was generous of Alchemic Affairs," she ventured, and Ed could tell she was unsure she'd like the strings attached to her pseudo-son's status. "And what do they expect of you now that you're home?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Mustang ordered me to figure out my living situation and report back tomorrow, so I guess I'll find out then," he supposed. "Of course, Grumman offered to make me an ambassador, if I wanted," he submitted for her thoughts on the idea.

"I'm sure you would do a marvelous job," she beamed at him like a proud mother, "but didn't you just get home? Seems sort of heartless to send you away again," Gracia mused. A knock at the door stalled their conversation. "Edward, would you be a dear and get that while I finish up? Should be them; they're right on time, but I'm not quite done yet."

"Sure thing." Seemed they'd have to shelf their discussion until another time.

"Alphonse, Elicia, wash up for dinner," she called up the stairs. She turned back to the stove as Ed left the room.

Sure enough, Winry and Granny Pinako were waiting for him at the door, ready to eat. The two automail mechanics had told him over the weekend that they would be staying in town until this upcoming Sunday morning so they could celebrate his and Elicia's birthdays while on their vacation. They were not in a rush to get back, especially since Granny was getting older and traveling was becoming harder on her if it wasn't spread out enough.

"Hey, Win, Granny. Come on in. Dinner's almost ready," Ed waved them in with a welcoming smile. He loved seeing them, knowing they knew him, grateful they cared for him.

"Hi, Ed," Winry chimed as she stepped in out of the cold air.

"Edward," Granny greeted him with a firm nod, but her pleased smirk was pulling at her lips as she entered the foyer.

"Have fun shopping?" Ed asked as he helped them out of their coats then led the way down the hall.

"Oh, Ed! I got some awesome tungsten wrenches! They can handle all the torque I can give 'em. And the new micro joint suspension rods…" his oldest friend gushed next to her placating grandmother.

He had stopped listening as soon as she said 'wrenches,' having been it hit over the head one too many times with her beloved tools. Yet, he enjoyed the sound of her enthusiastic voice, letting it wash over him. He had missed her babble, and it filled him with a sense of calm and rightness with the world. She really was more like a younger sister to him, and that thought made him smile wider.

Her excited chatter followed him down the hall. Its walls were tastefully punctuated with framed photographs. Some were of Maes and Gracia or the trio of Hugheses. One even featured himself, Al, and Elicia, but mostly they were of his smiling youngest sister in her adorable pigtails and giant Hughes smile.

Once they reached the wood trimmed white walls of the dining room, Ed plopped down along one side and indicated for his second youngest sister and grandmother to sit.

Looking around the table as it filled, he was grateful anew. His second to youngest sister, Winry, was still gushing about her day's haul next to Granny as Al and Elicia nearly bounced to join them at the table. Gracia brought up the rear, placing the hot serving bowl in the center before taking her seat. He was back home with his family: Grandmother, second mother, younger brother, and two younger sisters. His heart swelled, even if a small ping let him know something was still missing. It was fine. This was more than he ever thought he would have.

"…so she said we should meet you tomorrow around 5:30." Winry was saying.

"Winry and I should be done shopping by then, so it shouldn't be a problem, right Brother?" Al asked, bringing him back into the moment.

"Huh?" Ed said stupidly. He hadn't really been paying attention, being lost in his sense of contentment and familiarity.

"Tomorrow. Al and I are going to meet you after you get off work at that bar, R&R, so don't skip out on us," Winry dictated, pointing her spoon at him. "I know you don't like to make a fuss, but…"

"Yeah, yeah," Ed rolled his eyes, but knew he'd be going. He'd already planned it with Gracia.

"I wanna go," Elicia whined, crossing her arms and pushing out her lower lip in the most endearing pout Ed had ever seen. Hughes was right. She was just so precious, their little Elicia.

"A military bar is no place for little girls," Granny began, and Ed could see her antimilitary flag waving.

"I'm not little. I'm almost nine!" Elicia denied the old woman her point.

Stunted laughs flittered around the table, probably because they all remembered Ed's rants about not being short when he was younger. Well, whatever. It was kinda nice that she took after him, even a little.

"And while that's true, dear," Gracia soothed her daughter, "your big brothers and sister here are going out with Edward's friends. I'm sure he wants to see them for his birthday. After all, we have been keeping him all to ourselves…" Gracia smiled a secret grin with their youngest.

"But… it's our birthday. We should spend it together!" Elicia cried, frowning more into her pout.

"But we will," Ed said, an idea forming quickly in his mind.

"We will?!" she nearly squeaked, she squealed at such a high pitch.

"Yeah, we'll have birthday pancakes tomorrow morning," Ed proposed, "and then we have your party this Saturday, right?"

"Pancakes?!" she squealed even higher, clasping her hands in front of her as her bright green eyes grew into jade saucers.

"Yup," he said, glad that she looked so happy.

" _And,_ you'll be there at the party?" She asked hopefully, holding out her pinky finger. "Promise?"

"Promise. I wouldn't miss it for the world, Lici," Ed swore, mimicked her, and entangled his new metal digit with hers. "Will there be cake?" he asked, knowing that, just like Winry and tool shopping, asking Elicia about pretty things would keep her distracted.

She was off to the races. Elicia's exuberance filled the room with cheer as she prattled on over the details for this weekend. After everyone finished their meal, Ed helped Gracia clear the table. With Elicia still preoccupied, he took the opportunity to climb the stairs and return with a brown paper package.

Everyone had relocated to the living room for after-dinner tea by then. All the adults smiled at him as he studied the babbling almost-nine-year-old sitting on the floor in front of the warm fire. She was in the middle of describing what kind of dress she was going to wear at her party.

"Elicia," he called, requesting her attention. When she turned to him, she saw what was in his hands, and he was rewarded with her full focus. "Since Al, Winry, and I won't be seeing you on your and my birthday tomorrow night, we wanted to give you one of your gifts tonight. What do you think? Is that equivalent exchange?" He queried in a mock serious tone, then smiled at her.

"Uh-huh," she said, her eyes transfixed on the paper covered box, but she nodded.

"Good," Ed approved. He leaned over and handed her the present before sitting in the empty seat on the couch.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squealed while ripping the wrapping to shreds.

Her green eyes sparkled as she looked at her new toy. When Ed and Al had seen it in the store, they knew immediately it'd be perfect. There in Elicia's arms was a miniature replica of the little girl herself; it was a girl doll with green eyes, light brown hair, fair skin and a party dress.

"Oh, wow! She looks just like me!" the little girl cried, jumping up off the floor to throw her arms around Ed's neck and squeezed. Then she repeated the process for Winry and Al.

Ed noticed she hugged their brother more gently than she had him or Winry, but with plenty of vigor. Al didn't flinch at the tight embrace, which meant he was improving. Good. Hopefully Al wouldn't need too much longer to recover from aging four years in an instant.

Ed had noticed Al was slightly uncoordinated since they'd woken up from their return through the gate. Ed had a feeling his younger brother had been downplaying his pain during their sequestered stay at the secure location Mustang and his team had set up after moving them from the hospital. So he was glad to see evidence that Al was getting better.

"Alright, I think it's time for bed," Gracia said after another half hour.

"Aww… do I hafta?" Elicia whined, turning puppy dog eyes on their mother.

"Elicia…" Gracia started to reprimand, but Ed cut her off with a quick wink.

"Well, not really, but the sooner you head to bed, the sooner we get to have birthday pancakes…" Ed said nonchalantly, "but if you don't want them…"

"No, no! I want them!" she chimed.

"Then say, 'goodnight,'" Gracia chimed in, smiling to Ed for his help.

"Goodnight," Elicia smiled wide to the room, then took her mother's hand and they headed upstairs.

A chorus of 'goodnight,' 'night,' and 'sweet dreams' followed the two.

"Well, kids, that's our cue to head back to our hotel," Granny said once Elicia was out of ear shot.

"It is getting late," Al agreed.

"Edward, call an old woman a cab, would you?" Granny asked him.

"Sure thing," he said, standing. He flexed his automail and natural joints, then remembered something. "Oh, yeah!" He exclaimed over his shoulder before he called a car.

"What?" Winry asked, following his movements with her eyes from her spot on the couch.

"I know you two said I could pay you back later, but there are benefits to being a military dog," he smiled at them with his fake smile, knowing their opinions on his employer. "Looks like I'll be able to pay you back for my arm and leg sooner than I thought."

"Is that so?" Granny asked as if she had known all along he would pay them in full, no matter what it took.

"Yeah. I'll bill 'em tomorrow," he smiled, glad that he could pay them for their excellent craftsmanship sooner rather than later.

"Both sets," Winry chimed in, an evil grin in her voice.

"Both?" Ed and Al said together.

"Of course I'll charge them through the nose for this set and the ones I made you two years ago. Seems only fair since the military is claiming responsibility for your saving the country." Winry reasoned, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee. Obviously, she had caught the press conference, too, and was not happy with the way things had worked out.

"Ah," Ed nodded, acknowledging her logic before he put the call through to the operator.

When Ed hung up a few minutes later, Gracia had returned.

"Is she asleep already?" Al asked, surprised yet indulgent of the younger girl.

"Seems so, but she did take her new favorite doll to bed with her," Gracia told them, giving Ed and Al a kind smile.

They grinned big, Elric smiles at their second mother.

"Ok, then. We'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Winry promised with a wink at Ed.

"It'll have to be early," he gave them an easy-out, letting them off the hook if they didn't really want to participate. It was just pancakes.

"Precisely why we will be here to celebrate," Granny chided him, as she held her pipe to her mouth, ready to chew on it.

He had promised Elicia the treat for their birthday, but he hadn't expected Winry and Granny to come over early enough to partake, as well. Obviously, he knew Winry was coming over tomorrow. She had been only too happy to volunteer during dinner to help Al spend what was left of their funds tomorrow while he was at the office, but getting to see them all together again on his birthday was the perfect gift.

"The more the merrier," Gracia added with a smile for the departing women.

"Well, see you in the then," Winry called as the Rockbells entered their cab.

After paying Winry and Granny's driver, Ed and Al wrapped Elicia's remaining gifts and put them back in the closet. Before going to bed, the brothers decided on the furniture changes they were going to request. In their new work spaces, they'd need to remove the beds and side tables, replacing them with desks, chairs, and bookshelves. In the living room, they also wanted to add a few bookshelves.

For the first time in his career, Ed was excited to have a place to keep his very own books. Now, if he could handle tomorrow's birthday 'celebration' with the team, he might just survive anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back! Thanks for being so patient with me during the move from Southern California to North Dakota! As promised, please enjoy two chapters and comment away!


	30. Chapter 30

***Part of the Team***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

The next day, Bithday Pancakes morphed into a full blown banquet, courtesy of Gracia's delicious cooking. True to their word, the Rockbells were there bright and early to share in a family breakfast. By the end, Ed felt like this was the one of the best birthday he'd ever had.

Everyone left that morning with a kick in their step as they headed off to their day: Granny to visit old friends, Gracia to drop Elicia off at school then go open her shop, Al and Winry to go shop for the household items along with the food they were lacking for their new place.

Thankfully, Mustang had given Ed the money from accounting Friday, his last day of debriefing. It was a part of his normal pay until his back pay kicked in. He was grateful that Al would have the funds to make their new house a home to his heart's content. It didn't hurt that it gave Al an excuse to spend the whole day alone with Winry, either.

Ed smiled at the thought before resigning himself to his day at Central Command. This morning Ed was responsible for handling whatever Mustang threw his way and dropping off their furniture request with the excessively coy officer, Betty Macchi. Ed had made his bed and had to lie in it, preferably alone. His reciprocation the night before had garnered some new insights into his own skills in the world of flirting, of which he had been unaware.

Surprisingly, too, was that as Ed walked to the office today, he was asked for his autograph on his newspaper clipped photo. He thought that was better than the reporters who had been falling all over each other at HQ yesterday morning to get a few words with someone who knew something, anything, about him.

That thought made him hesitate. He'd used himself as bait enough times during missions to be prepared for the ambush, but when he was an unwitting mark, the feeling was not as satisfying. Actually, it was disconcerting.

After the first couple of people asked for his signature, he took the long way around that Havoc had probably taken the day before. He was glad the house he and Al had just taken possession of was much closer to HQ than Gracia's.

He hoped Al wouldn't have a hard time taking their new clothes that Gracia had made them buy this past weekend over to their new house today. Winry would help Al, right? Of course she would, but she'd probably complain about how Ed should move his own things, that a beauty such as herself should be making automail and not carrying around his things… blah, blah, blah.

It's not like he had a lot anyways. All he had to his name were those clothes along with the ones on his back, a generically furnished house, his notebook, and his new silver pocket watch. His hands were just twitching to get some alchemical books and catch up on theory from the last four and a half years. Now that he was back in Amestris, he could start building his own library, filled with any book he wanted!

He made his way into Central Command without much effort, but there was still a lot of staring and pointing. Though, it was better than the three-floor-long standing ovation he'd gotten the day before. It made him uneasy. Maybe Grumman was right, and he wouldn't be able to do his job effectively anymore, that he'd have to take some position where he'd be in the lime light all the time.

Fuck. He hoped not.

Ed was thankful that he missed Betty when he got to Alchemic Affairs. The provocative woman from last night had luckily just stepped away when he dropped off his furniture request form. Flirting with her had made him realize that, not only could he flirt, but he was pretty good at it. He'd have to be careful not to do it so heavily in front of Al, though.

Ed was embarrassed that he'd obviously made Al uncomfortable, which was an unexpected side effect. Apparently, if someone flirted with him, like that bartender back in Berlin, and he didn't respond, Al was fine. However, if Ed reciprocated like he had last night, it bothered his younger brother.

Dating was complicated, he decided, even for those not in the dating pair. He was going to have to develop some guidelines for his new scientific endeavor. If Mustang wanted him to date and not wait for the bastard, he was going to date. Because fuck him.

However, Ed didn't think it'd be appropriate to experiment on his coworkers, so he'd refrain. Also, weren't they technically his subordinates since he outranked them in the chain of command? Fuck, and he was a Colonel now, too. No wonder people said love was complicated; it was so messy. Give him advanced theoretical physics or archaic alchemic theory any day!

Maybe he shouldn't date or flirt with anyone in the military and save the complication of seeing them at work. Yeah, that seemed like a good rule. Ok. So, no flirting in front of Al and no flirting or dating at work. That seemed like a good foundation so far.

Hawkeye was making coffee when he walked in out of the gawking hallway. It was still a quarter 'til 9 AM when Ed strolled past everyone else's desks that were covered in papers until he reached his unencumbered one. He wondered how long before his looked like theirs.

"Morning, Hawkeye," he greeted her as he crossed the outer office to the coffee maker.

"Good morning, Edward," she nodded her acknowledgment then turned to him. "Happy birthday," she offered in her affectionate, yet subdued, tone.

He smiled a genuine grin at her. Her implicit acceptance was one of the things he had missed in Germany.

"You know, nothing's made me feel more at home than hearing that tone in your voice. Thanks, Hawkeye. I needed that," he said as he poured himself a cup.

"I guess it's the little things that make a home," she said, smiling softly while quietly reflecting over the room that would soon be full of commotion.

"You got that right," Ed emphatically agreed before taking a sip of his own brew as he, too, surveyed their home. In that moment he felt more at home than he did anywhere else. This was where he belonged.

The rest of the team filed in with time enough to get some coffee and shoot the shit for a few minutes. Mustang came in a few minutes before 9 AM, nodded hello to the room, and closed the door behind him.

Ed stiffened and offered his fake smile to the others, but he saw Hawkeye purse her lips. Something was off there; he let it go in favor of ignoring the bastard. He had enough on his plate without analyzing his and Mustang's new painful dynamic.

-8-

Hawkeye watched her General enter the outer office in time to not receive a reprimand, but saw the worried line on his brow and Edward's posture harden beneath his large smile. Her General's grip on his tightly held armful clinched when he acknowledged the room without making eye contact. His steps seemed more stiff than was customary in their relaxed office atmosphere. All signs pointed to something being amiss.

She poured another cup of coffee and entered her General's domain, shutting the door behind her.

"Sir," she said, placing his coffee on his desk.

Her General nodded, before sitting woodenly behind his workstation. He drank in the brew without a word as she stared at him, waiting for the weight of her gaze to break him. Moral would be effected if he did not get himself together, whatever this was. She stood before his desk for another three minutes in silence before his shoulders slumped and he gave in.

"It's not as serious as it looks," he said over the remains of his mug, trying to sound bored, but he wasn't fooling her.

"Understood, sir," she said. She didn't leave. Instead she waited for him to divulge more. His acknowledgement that the situation looked serious at all sounded alarm bells for her. He rarely showed his personal feelings at work, not just because it was dangerous in the cesspool of Central Command, but because he was, in actuality, a private sort of man.

"Hawkeye, it's fine. Just keep the paperwork coming. I need the distraction," he told her, but what he didn't say was from what he needed the diversion. He was generally open with her about what issues they faced, so for him not to disclose anything else meant he was in need of her help as a friend.

"Yes, sir," she said before leaving the room to refill his cup and returning with a thick pile of papers. She brought him coffee and continuously dropped off stack after stack of papers throughout the day, but the man didn't make another appearance into the shared space outside his door. On the third iteration of this pattern, she noticed an anomaly on his desk: a small, plain, paper covered package tied up with string.

Her General caught her looking at it, and tried to cover it with the documents she had just asked him to review. However, she was faster. She picked it up, examining it lightly. Obviously, it was a present, but, she surmised, it was a gift _from_ her General rather than _to_ him; it lacked the romantic touch his admirers' gifts always had. She looked up to meet his worried gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"A gift for Edward's birthday?" she asked, slightly surprised by the realization.

It was rare for him to give gifts at the office. Usually for the men's birthdays, he would buy a round or two of the top shelf drink each man preferred then headed home early, or in her case, he'd complete any and all tasks she handed him quickly and efficiently before they shared a glass of wine after work at her favorite restaurant.

Interesting. He didn't plan on accompanying them to the bar after work, she deduced.

"Yes. No," he said in a rush, "I don't know… I'm not sure if it's appropriate to give it to him."

He was flustered behind his practiced mask, she absorbed again, and that added a new complex layer to her General's situation she was trying to understand. His answer and his demeanor, his vacillation, let her know that he needed 'Riza,' his friend, not 'Captain Hawkeye,' his adjunct.

"You like him." It wasn't an accusation or a question, just a statement of fact.

Roy simply nodded and looked away, obviously uncomfortable under her steady gaze, but her friend didn't deny it.

Her General had feelings for Edward Elric. But what kind? They had been at odds for most of Edward's time in the military, but for him to display such emotion… Again, interesting. His feelings must be deeper than either he or she expected. Mulling that over, she returned her attention to the package she held, so she could anticipate his needs and help him where she could.

"It's a book," she guessed at the contents in her hand. It was a logical choice for the resident genius's birthday.

"Yes," her friend answered, nervously peeking up at her out of the corner of his eye, almost as if he was checking for her approval. He was not her General in that moment, but an anxious version of her friend Roy, almost as if he had reverted to their time as teens together during his apprenticeship with her father.

"From Father's stores?" she asked, for she knew her father's old collection housed a number of valuable tomes only prodigy level alchemists could sift through. It was why, even after Roy had joined the military against her father's wishes, that the elder Hawkeye had still bequeathed his amassed library to his apprentice. He had never intended to let any other alchemist have access to his repository of knowledge.

Her old friend turned to look at her full on then. Yes, she had guessed right, but why was Roy so skittish? Of course, if giving a book from that compendium was causing her friend such unrest, it was sure to be a rare item, but he didn't seem to be anxious that she was aware of its origins. On top of that, if Roy was having feelings… romantic feelings… for the Colonel in the next room…

Oh.

They couldn't be together. Roy knew the two of them couldn't be together and didn't want to send mixed messages.

"If it's a gift, then give it. If it has another meaning, then don't. Either way, you can just wait a year to be together…" She advised before he cut her off.

"I told him not to wait," her friend Roy told her in a hushed regretful tone.

"Idiot," she breathed, allowing herself a moment to internally roll her eyes and shake her head.

"What?" He snapped his head up to meet her clear eyes.

"Give it to him," she said. "It's up to him if he accepts." Then she left her stunned friend to sort out his own affairs. After all, she had little room to talk.

-8-

Ed watched Hawkeye reenter the shared office space yet again until she stopped at her desk across from his own. She wore a subtle look in her eyes that did nothing but add to his growing anxiety. He knew the Bastard and she were friends, but would his CO tell her what had happened, or didn't happen, yesterday? That look said she had a few questions of her own, and all Ed wanted to do was bury himself in his work.

He was spending the morning with her, learning their convoluted filing system. He wasn't allowed to touch anything until he demonstrated to her that he was proficient at dictating the memorized organization scheme. He thought about writing it down in his pocket notebook, but that defeated the point of a verbal system.

The direction of the file's head and what page it was open to indicated who was lead on the case. The order it was filed indicated the project's progress. And a sequence of ticks along the edge of the pages denoted a series of codes to tell each other any additional information, like if an Alchemist might be involved or if there were any related deaths linked to the case.

It was fucking boring. Ed had forgotten how much he hated paperwork. He was doing it because it was his job, because it paid him, and because it allowed him to take care of his brother. The ticking of the clock, snicked away seconds of his life, and he knew he'd never see that time again.

"Hey, who's hungry?" Havoc announced at lunch time. "Course, we won't really start celebrating your birthday until after work," he winked at Ed, "but for now, let's go get chow at the commissary."

The rest of the room agreed in earnest, sending his smiles and slaps on the back.

Ed was reluctant to go down to the canteen, but the whole team would be going, so he decided it would be alright. They'd have his back if someone started the old rumors again, right? Or if a wild mob started clapping again, like yesterday...

The whole team got their food without incident, and Ed began to relax in their presence. Truthfully, he was so carefree by the end of their meal that he didn't even notice Betty until Havoc and Breda stopped talking and began gawking over his shoulder as they stood to leave. They were clearing their trays when he turned to see what they were looking at, and there she was.

"Hello, Mr. Elric. It's so nice to see you, again," she coaxed coyly with her lips extra pouty with eyes only for him. Ed wondered if she was trying to bait him in some sort of claiming ritual he was unaware of.

"Hi Betty, nice to see you, too. Didn't I tell you last night to call me Ed?" He asked politely with a small smile at her lapse in memory. "Anyways, how are you?"

"I'm doing better now," she said stepping forward into the team's space but kept looking only at him. He wasn't sure what to do as the team stood silently, watching the two of them.

"Have you all met?" Ed asked the open air in the middle of the group. When he got no response, he touched her arm to make her feel more comfortable in the group of strangers who were acting weird and made introductions, "Captain Riza Hawkeye, Lieutenants Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, and Sergeant Major Kane Fuery, this is Lieutenant Betty Macchi. Betty, meet the team."

Murmurs of 'how do you do' were exchanged, but nothing else, so Ed continued. He noticed that it wasn't just his office mates who were watching him silently; the whole room seemed to be taking in his conversation.

"Betty helped Al and me find a new place yesterday afternoon." Turning back to Betty, he asked, "Is there anything wrong with my paperwork? Al and I double checked it twice."

"Oh, no," she assured him, folding her hands behind her back and popping her chest out a little too obviously for him. He heard Havoc take in a quick breath, though. "I was just sad to miss you when you dropped it off," she sulked worse than Elicia had the night before, and Elicia was nine.

"Well, if I need anything else, you'll be my girl," Ed affirmed as he winked at her, trying to get rid of her frown and dispel the odd tension in the room.

"Oh, you," she playfully berated him as she lightly pushed his left shoulder and smiled.

Well, there goes no flirting at work.

"See you around, Betty," he smiled at her. "We've gotta get back to the office."

"Ok, Ed. See you soon," she cooed as they parted ways, waving her fingers teasingly at him.

Ed began to get a sinking feeling as he exited the commissary. People had already been watching him, but now there was a new excitement in their chatter as he walked by. He sped up his pace to escape, feeling his breath shortening, but the team kept pace around him, unconsciously surrounding him. He felt anxious, like he needed air.

When he got back, he went straight to his desk and reached for the practice papers Hawkeye had given him to show her how well he remembered the crazy organizational plan they used. Just as he was about to pick them up, Havoc, Breda, and Fuery cornered him against his desk.

"How did you do that?" Havoc asked, genuinely in awe.

"You've been holding out on us, kid," Breda accused.

"That was amazing!" Fuery praised.

Why hadn't they gotten uncomfortable like Al had? Ed was confused. He'd thought that scene had been really awkward.

"Wait, what?" Ed asked.

"Betty Macchi from Avro's office never talks to, much less flirts with, any of the men on base and it's only your second day!" Breda exclaimed.

"She was the one assigned to show me and Al some houses yesterday. When she flirted with me last night, I just flirted back. I never expected it to bleed over to the office. I'm sorry," Ed apologized. He was feeling very uncomfortable now. What was going on?

"Edward," Hawkeye interjected, and the men in front of him parted. She came up to him, giving the same comforting look she'd given him that morning. "They are saying they are impressed that you were able to attract an unattainable woman. It's alright, but no flirting on the clock, ok?"

"Oh, ok. Got it," Ed agreed, a little relieved. He'd been worried he'd crossed an invisible line somehow.

"Gentlemen, I believe you all have work to do," she said setting the tone for the afternoon. Translation: 'If you horn dogs want to live, you had better get to work.' It was funny; with that subtle reprimand, he felt like part of the team.

By the end of the day, Ed felt he could recite the entire filing system backwards, forwards, and any which way Hawkeye asked along with all the codes for any crazy situation the team might face, from 'all-out war' (Alpha Oscar Whiskey) to 'Mustang's sleeping, stall' (Mike Sierra Sierra). And the miracle was, Hawkeye thought so, too.

He was feeling tired from all the mundane details Hawkeye had crammed into his head. He just hoped it didn't pour out of his ears tonight while he slept. Tomorrow he would begin shadowing her as she filed. Maybe if he did really well, he might get to shadow the rest of the team sometime next week.

'Oh goodie,' he thought sarcastically, but very quietly in the bottom recesses of his mind so that Hawkeye wouldn't hear it. He was nearly convinced that she could whenever she gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. It was eerie.


	31. Chapter 31

***Birthday Flirting***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

"Quitting time," Roy heard Hawkeye finally call at 4 minutes past 5 PM through his partially closed door. "That's for the extra-long lunch," she said, and Roy could see her looking at Havoc, Breda, and Fuery with a heavy glance.

They each made nervous motions in response. Breda scratched the crown of his head, grinned helplessly, and shrugged his shoulders. Havoc smiled self-consciously around his unlit cigarette. Fuery fiddled with his fingers, not making eye contact.

"Come on, Edward," she announced in a much more upbeat voice. "It's time we got you a birthday drink."

The rest of the team hooted and holler their excitement as Roy stood and crossed his inner office.

Shit. He had run out of time. He'd spent the day using the monotony of paperwork to sooth his inner debate: Give Fullmetal the gift or not. Riza had blatantly told him he was being an idiot, but he couldn't help it.

If Roy gave the alluring man he couldn't have this present, there could be only a few reactions, and he couldn't anticipate his unpredictable Colonel with enough accuracy to assure the message got across. If the returned officer accepted the gift, it could mean that Fullmetal's hopes would be raised, in which Roy was just leading him on. If Fullmetal took it as a show of affection, Roy was just being a cock tease, baiting the brilliant alchemist with no hope of a romantic payoff.

On the other hand, the brash young man might reject it, slamming the archaic text (and hopefully not an automail fist) in his face, either that, or demand a relationship that Roy was unable of having. If the gorgeous genius refused him, it could mean an arctic climate could settle in the office, and moral would suffer as well as his team's productivity and effectiveness, something that he couldn't afford under the Brass' microscope he and his department were always under.

However, he couldn't help the need to acknowledge Fullmetal's birthday; if he let it pass without doing so, it would be as if he was denying the fact that the remarkable man had beaten the odds to return to his side. Err. Returned to his team. Ah. Amestris. Returned from beyond the gate to his country, not to him personally. Shit.

"Fullmetal," Roy called, emerging into the front room as the excited team prepared to leave for the day. "Can I see you in my office for a moment?" Curious golden eyes met his blank mask before he amended, "I have something for you." Roy anxiously retreated to his office, but did not close his door. Fullmetal followed him while the rambunctious team packed up and headed out into the hall, telling the young officer to catch up when he was finished.

"Close the door behind you," Roy said as he reached over his desk. Surprisingly obedient, his Colonel did as he was told while Roy nervously pulled the questionable parcel from under a pile of papers and handed it to the silent, yet inquisitive, young man. "Happy birthday, Fullmetal."

-8-

Ed looked at Mustang like he had never seen the older alchemist before. An obsidian eye next to a dark patch watched him hopefully.

"Well, go on. Open it," his CO encouraged with a strange edge to his voice.

Ed thought it sounded like… nervousness? Slowly, he pulled the twine and plain wrapping away to find an ancient book. As Ed held it up, he noticed that the cover's print had worn off the feathered brown leather. He delicately opened the frayed book to the title page and nearly ripped the cover off with his surprised jolt. It was a first edition of _Flamel's Summary of Philosophy_! Ed and Al had been raised in a long line of alchemists that still bore Flamel's crest, and this book was over 500 years old!

"Where did you…? How did you…? I mean… This is… This is so…" Ed stammered in a non-cohesive sting. "Do you know what this is?!"

-8-

"Relax, Fullmetal," Roy said as he leaned back along the front edge of his desk. "I inherited it and have never had the time to delve into it the way it was meant to be studied," Roy explained as he watched sun kissed skin touch the softened cover with the gentlest of caresses, almost like the absorbed man was praying to it, revering it. Roy had never been jealous of a book before, but right now...

"Mustang, I… I don't know what to say. It's … I never thought I'd see one, much less touch one. Thank you," Fullmetal confessed as he handed the book back with the biggest, most ridiculous grin Roy had ever seen. It was adorable.

"It's yours, Fullmetal," Roy clarified, enjoying the rare smile before it disappeared with a start.

"What? No, I couldn't… Mustang, it's too valuable!" Fullmetal nearly shoved the book at him.

"Who else is going to care this much about a book most State Alchemists can't even read? Take it," Roy insisted. "It needs an owner who is going to read it and learn from it the way it was meant to be appreciated, not simply kept on a shelf," he nearly pleaded. He'd never had so much trouble giving a gift before.

-8-

"Mustang…" Ed wavered, envisioning this extraordinarily rare tome on his new bookshelf in his new home. He felt lightheaded by the fantasy.

He held the book in his left hand to study it in the dying light of day. The smooth texture of the worn treatise rested against his gloved flesh palm while he absently reaching out with his covered metal one to steady himself on the closest thing, Mustang's arm. The touch sent warm streaks of heat through Ed' automail.

Surprised by the reaction, Ed snapped his eyes away from the book. He looked at the man he wanted but couldn't have, the man he'd crossed worlds to see, the man who had given him this thoughtful and invaluable gift, and just about collapsed into him.

-8-

"Please, Fullmetal, accept it?" Roy asked as his mask slipped a little more, standing to support the younger man's unsteady weight in his arms.

"Only if you keep it safe for me until I can get it home. If I go out with the team and anything happened to it…" the stunned blond couldn't even finish his unthinkable sentence. A look asking how Roy could have given him such a precious offering was painted clearly on his face, and it sent warmth flooding Roy's system.

"I'll keep it safe," Roy whispered the promise, then realized how close they had become. Before he could back away from the unexpected intimacy, Fullmetal reached out and swung his left arm around Roy, enveloping him in a warm and tender embrace unbelievable of a man with two metal limbs.

-8-

Ed pulled tighter to this enigma of a man when Mustang hugged him back. He felt their body heat mixing as the scent of the General began to blend into a heady, intoxicating blend that tingled in his brain: leather and earth, sundried cotton, paper and ink, and an enthralling musk of man. He'd smelled this once before in a dream somewhere between there and here, but the real thing flowed down his spine, encompassing him in a safe warmth he'd never felt before.

'Is this really so wrong?' Ed considered for a split second, but at the thought he realized it was. No matter how good or how secure he felt, if they went any further everything and everyone the man in his arms had fought for would be for naught. Every life lost, Hughes' sacrifice, would be worthless. Ed let his arms fall away as he took two large steps back, still holding the overwhelming gift.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Ed apologized with a fixed stare over Mustang's shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. "I just... Mustang this gift is too much. I can't accept it," Ed alleged, trying to clear his dazed senses. "Thank you for showing it to me." He held the magnificent book out to a mystified Mustang who took it after a moment. Ed retreated to the door, put a hand on the handle, then turned. "Thanks for showing me, Mustang. It's really amazing, just seeing it."

Ed could see Mustang's numb and confused face behind his mask as he opened the door. Letting a sad, secret smile slowly slide over his own face, Ed silently left through the exit, his heart in his throat.

Closing the door behind him, he shook his head to dispel the rapture he'd felt, both with such a present and from being held in Mustang's arms. Ed could still feel the heat of the older man's body surrounding him, lingering down through his clothes to settle in his bones. Small tingles sparked up his automail arm. Maybe he'd better have Winry take a look at it; automail shouldn't do that, shouldn't feel heat or prickle like that…

Kai's words flitted across his mind, 'There is a release to be found in the arms of a man who can protect you, fill you, and take you.' Ed could now imagine exactly what Kai meant, and the thought sent flickers of pleasure through the bundle of nerves in his back. Ed could believe those arms could…

No.

He couldn't have that with Mustang. He couldn't have what he wanted. After everything he'd been through, after all his efforts to get here, he still couldn't have it. He wondered when he was going to stop wanting it because, deep down, he knew he didn't really deserve to be that happy. He'd just had a taste of it in that tease of a moment, but that was more than he knew he was allowed. Not after everything he'd done. Even knowing that, it still stung.

Ed let the outer office's cooler air calm him. He could still feel Mustang's warmth, but he knew he had to let go of it. They would not be free to be with one another, and just yesterday, Mustang had made it clear that Ed should not wait for him. The fresh memories of yesterday's rejection and today's warmth sent pangs through his heart.

He shook his head and took a deep breath. He did it again, and after the third time was able to clear his head. Tonight was about friendship. The team was taking him out for his birthday, to have fun, and to be with his friends. Yes, he could have that. He could have his friends. Maybe he could have Mustang as his friend.

With a small hopeful smile, he sped off in the encroaching night to meet up with the team. Together, they all headed to the bar down the crowded block. Regardless of the number of people gaping at him, Ed felt much more relaxed than he had all day, even after breakfast or before running into Betty. Weird.

-8-

"This the place?" Winry asked Alphonse as they entered a bar off the busy street.

"It should be. It matches the address Lieutenant Havoc gave us," Alphonse replied, taking in the sight.

Wood panels and Amestrian Green lamp shades filled the nighttime establishment. It felt welcoming and hinted that there was fun to be had with dart boards, pool tables, and a dance floor. The walls matched the wooden bar that sat conveniently in the center of the large space; enclaves of booths sat along the perimeter of the room with a smattering of small tables throughout. Most of the patrons were blue clad military personnel getting off for the day with a healthy sprinkling of non-military customers, most of whom were attractively dressed women.

"Look, there's Ed!" Winry said excitedly, pointing at Brother as he waved them over from a booth. She grabbed Alphonse's hand and began to pull him across the filling bar.

He tried his best not to blush at their clasped hands. He and Winry had spent the entire day shopping and moving into 'Elric Manor,' as she called it. It had been great spending the whole day with her, just the two of them.

The welcoming officers pulled a table over to elongate their space so the whole party had enough seats. He and his beautiful companion approached to a round of 'hi's and 'hello's. As everyone ordered their drinks from the waitress, they took their seats.

"Happy birthday, Brother," Alphonse told the man of the hour as the server left. He smiled, knowing that overt acknowledgements of affection usually embarrassed Brother.

"Yeah, thanks, Al," Brother replied, turning a little way, pink dusting his cheeks.

"Happy birthday, Ed," Winry chimed in, her bright smile beaming at the birthday boy. A pang of jealousy shot through Alphonse. He wished she'd smile like that at him.

"Happy birthday, Boss," Havoc said followed by a round of birthday wishes from the rest of the team. "Another year older huh? How old are you this year anyways?"

"Uh," Brother stalled. Alphonse knew he was thinking over the time displacement theory they had been considering before they had tried to return to Amestris. It seemed there was a six-year difference between dimensions and Brother was still trying to figure out if that meant that time affected them differently, having jumped between worlds multiple times. Brother was pretty sure it didn't, but wanted more evidence before he said anything, and Alphonse agreed.

"You were twelve when you joined the military, right, so that would make you…" Falman noted, calculating in his head, "21?"

"That's right," Brother nodded as the waitress returned with their table's alcohol.

"So, got any dirt on the Boss, Al, Winry?" Havoc started after the waitress left again.

"Do we ever," Winry said, her 'Evil Face,' as Brother would put it, plastered on her smooth features.

"Oh, fuck," Brother muttered before throwing back his whiskey neat.

Everyone else burst out laughing.

"Well, there was that time he got buried in books when we were kids; the whole bookshelf fell on him and you could only see his feet."

A few chuckles met that offering.

"I seem to remember not being the only one in that pile," Brother hegded.

"Nah. Boring," Havoc waved off the story with a playfully malicious grin.

"Yeah, that's like an everyday occurrence," Breda added with glee.

"Well, what about when we were little and Aunt Trisha was potty-training him and we went to see that waterfall…" Winry offered with her own maniacal laugh.

"Nah-uh! No fucking way, Win," Brother ordered, pointing in her face. "No stories in which I was too young to be responsible for!"

The team laughed boisterously. Havoc roared loudly while Breda slammed his big hands on the table. Furey gripped his sides, trying to breath, as Falman and Hawkeye politely covered their mirth with their hands.

-8-

The night continued as they all took turns telling stories and buying Ed drinks. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but he noticed the guys from the office kept looking at him weird. When Hawkeye and Winry took a restroom break, the men pounced.

"Ok, so how long you been holding out on us?" Breda wanted to know.

"Huh?" Ed tensed nervously while his hands began to sweat.

'Oh fuck!' He thought as the feel of Mustang in his arms flooded his senses. 'They saw us!' He thought desperately. 'They know!'

"You know. How long have you been able to flirt like that, Boss?" Havoc asked. "It's not fair. Anytime I start talking to a girl, Mustang steals her away. Now I have to watch out for you, too? S'not fair, and with your celebrity status…"

"Uh, what do you mean?" Ed asked unsure if they meant Mustang and him anymore or what had happened at lunch, but he figured he should play dumb just in case. "I told you, Betty started flirting with me, so I just flirted back. I barely even knew what I was doing."

"Seriously? S'not fair," Havoc whined, characteristically.

"Well, women are not going to date you if you are crying all the time," Falman put in, and they all laughed.

"Could you show us what you did?" Fuery asked. Even though the short man was older than Ed by about 8 years, at this moment, it felt like Ed was the elder of the two.

"Yeah," Breda encouraged. "Go up to that lady at the bar, and see if you can get her phone number. Then we can see what you do."

"Really?" Ed hesitated in disbelief.

All this over a little flirting with Betty? They didn't want to know about him and Mustang? Well, that was a relief. He sighed inwardly. Not that there was anything to tell, but then he remembered that embrace and had to stifle his blush.

"You want to watch me flirt with that lady to get my technique?" Ed looked at his little brother whose eyes were laughing. "What gives, Al? Last night you were squeamish, but watching me flirt here is fine?" Everyone turned to Al, surprised, and wanted an answer, too.

-8-

"Well, Brother, last night it seemed like Ms. Macchi was ready to do more than just flirt with you, and if I hadn't said anything, I doubt she would have realized I was still standing there," Alphonse blushed. The team turned back to Brother with higher esteem than they already had for him; it was evident in their gleaming eyes and swooning, wiggly bodies.

"Now you have to do it," Breda cajoled, pushing Brother out of the booth towards the bar. "What's a little birthday flirting?"

Brother stood as smoothly as he could with someone shoving him out of his seat. Then he turned to the table.

"If this goes badly, it's all your fault," he charged them with the responsibility.

"Yeah, and it'll be all our fault if you get a date, too," called Alphonse with a teasing smile. He thought it was great to see Brother having a good time for once, not worrying about a mission or having someone trying to kill him.

Is this what normal was?

They all watched Brother walk up to the bar and introduce himself to the young lady there. She was wearing a simple but clingy navy blue dress that complemented her dark strawberry blond locks and creamy skin. (Winry had prettier hair, the color of freshly cut wheat, and a more entrancing smile, though.) They began chatting, and Brother ordered two drinks. Smiling devilishly with the right amount of excitement and edge of trouble, he spoke to his new companion. The table scrutinized the pair as the lady leaned into Brother, touching his left arm that was resting on the bar as she laughed.

Brother turned and pointed to the group, and they all pretended they weren't watching. Out of the corner of Alphonse's eye, he saw her reach across the bar and grab a pen. On a napkin, she wrote something, then handed it to Brother. She leaned forward again and whispered something into his ear, then sat back with a coy look of her own. Brother smiled his 'winning grin,' the one he kept practicing all the time, at her, and she laughed.

"So, what are we doing," Winry colluded as she and Hawkeye came back to the quiet table and followed their line of sight.

"Shh-uuush," Havoc squelched her inquiry as he waved them off not taking his wide eyes off the couple across the room.

"We're watching a master at work," Breda whispered in awe.

"Huh?" Winry questioned, turning to Alphonse, her amused confusion evident in her twinkling blue eyes.

"We're watching Brother flirt," Alphonse proclaimed with cheer, glad he was able to talk and not get swept away by those dazzling blue pools.

"You mean, Ed isn't bursting into a bright blush and reciting the periodic table?" She laughed as she and Hawkeye took their seats. "This I have to see."

Brother folded up the napkin and put it in his pant pocket. He leaned forward and traced his hand down to the small of her back as he said something in her ear. She placed her hand on his left shoulder as she nodded. When they pulled back, they smiled, and he waved as he returned to his friends.

They sat in stunned silence.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Ed?" Winry cried, and they all broke out into fits of laughter.

"I bet you can't do that again," Havoc challenged.

Breda, Fuery, and Falman took that bet.

Turns out, Brother could. He walked up to a plain brunette this time in a yellow and white dress. Alphonse had noticed her as they had walked in. She had been sitting by herself watching the door impatiently since their arrival.

"I bet she asks him to sit down," Breda quipped when Brother started to talk with her as he touched the vacant chair next to her.

"Five hundred cenz* says she tells him to get lost," Havoc gambled.

"Ten says he gets to sit and gets the number," wagered Falman.

They put the cash on the table; Hawkeye rolled her eyes while Alphonse and Winry laughed. Ten minutes later, Falman was a richer man.

"Double or nothing?" Havoc asked before Brother rejoined them.

Upping the ante, Havoc picked the next mark, the 'hottest woman in the place.' She was a curvaceous blond in red heels, sitting on the other side of the bar, sandwiched between two friends. With the others as a buffer, Alphonse was sure Havoc thought Brother wouldn't be able to get close enough to get her alone, much less get her number. Brother crossed the room, and the betting began.

"Next round that he can't get her alone and get the number," Havoc called out.

"I'll take that action," Breda boasted.

"I don't know, it seems like he knows what he's doing," Fuery warned Havoc, but added, "five says Ed takes her hand."

"Five says he can't get her to smile at least three times," Falman joined in.

"I'll take that bet," Alphonse interjected, surprising them all. "What?" He asked with a large smile, "I know a sure thing when I see it." He laughed.

They put their money on the table and watched as Brother came to the ladies' table. Brother grinned to the whole group of young women and was greeted with smiles all around.

"One," Winry counted out loud grinning as she leaned on her forearms to get a better view, obviously enjoying herself at Brother's expense.

Brother pointed to their table, but the three ladies just watched him. He spoke with a charming smile as he held out his hand. The buxom blond took it as he led her to dance. After twirling her around the floor for a song, Ed returned her to her friends. She smiled again as Ed kissed the back of her hand when she sat.

"Two," Winry, Fury, and Alphonse all said at once, smiling at each other.

Brother grinned, nodding to her friends, and they returned his sentiment. He made another comment and all three women laughed.

"Three," the table said as one, except for Falman and Havoc.

"Laughing does not count as smiling. By definition, they are two separate expressions," Falman claimed defensively.

As they watched, Brother brushed his fingertips along her forearm as he leaned forward to say something in her ear. She didn't just smile, she beamed.

"Well, I'd say that counts," Hawkeye weighed in, smirking.

They all turned to her in astonishment, and the whole table broke out in another outburst of laughter. They watched Brother collect the blonde's number and to their amazement, caught the woman lean in and give Brother a quick peck on the cheek. Brother shook hands with the lady's two smiling friends and gave the blond another kiss on her hand in farewell.

Havoc grudgingly bought the next pitcher of beer.

"Bet you couldn't get a man to give you his number," Havoc challenged.

Brother and Alphonse stilled at the comment and the group seemed uncertain with their reaction. Hawkeye touched Brother's forearm to get his attention.

"You don't have to do it Edward, if it makes you uncomfortable," she clarified in a soothing voice.

He turned to her and smiled a self-deprecating look as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Naw. It's not that," Brother explained, and the rest of the table relaxed. "It's just, in Germany, no one would've ever said that out loud. They have a much stricter view on sexuality than we do here, especially compared to alchemists. It just caught me off guard is all. I guess it's just a bit of culture shock, or readjusting to my own culture again."

"Well," she gripped Brother's arm firmly and smiled. "We're glad you're home," she said and turned to Alphonse, placing a hand on his arm, too, "both of you."

"Here-here!" Havoc, Breda, Fuery and Falman all chorused, raising their glasses to which everyone toasted. Alphonse smiled at the whole table and felt buoyant with affection for their friends.

"You are here!" A young man's voice called over the den of the bar.

-8-

Everyone looked up just as Ed saw a tall, pale-blond duo of young men break through the crowd on their way across the full room.

"Fletcher? Russell?" Al yelled over the ambient noise, rising from his seat to meet their old friends.

Ed stood too, but decided not to begrudge Russell the fact that the attractive elder Tringham was still taller than him. The pair of brothers exchanged hugs.

Ed must be feeling his alcohol if he was hugging people. Then thinking it over, and remembering his arms around a certain Brigadier General, he thought Mustang didn't count. Although, who he was justifying that to, he didn't know.

"We were so excited to hear that you two were back," rejoiced Fletcher in a slightly lower octave than Ed remembered. His medium blond hair was still worn in a spiky style above his grey-blue eyes in his thin face, having lost its baby-roundness.

"Everyone, this is Fletcher and Russell Tringham. Fletcher, Russell, these are our friends Winry, Captain Hawkeye, Lieutenants Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Sergeant Fuery. They work with Brother and Brigadier General Mustang," Al introduced everyone with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you," Fletcher bobbed politely to the group.

"Hello," Russell smiled and nodded. Then meeting Hawkeye's gaze, he said, "Wait, Captain Hawkeye? It's been a while."

"Hello, Mr. Tringham. It's nice to put a face to a voice," she replied politely.

"You two know each other?" Ed asked surprised.

"We spoke on the phone about a case a few years back," she intoned with a look that said they'd discuss it later, somewhere less public, to which Ed subtly nodded his acknowledgment.

"We're celebrating Ed's birthday," Winry explained conversationally, redirecting them all before it got awkward. "You should join us."

"Yeah. Pull up a chair," Ed agreed as he grabbed two more seats for the new comers.

"Thanks," Russell said gratefully as he clasping Ed's left shoulder before taking the seat next to him.

"You locals?" Breda asked casually.

"No, we've been traveling around the eastern region for a while," Fletcher told them.

"Oh. So, what brings you to Central," Fuery asked the Tringhams.

"Fletcher here is starting at Central University in a few weeks for Alchemic Studies," Russell beamed with pride at his little brother.

"Fletcher, that's great!" Ed exclaimed, glad that his friend was doing well. "And what about you, Russell? What are you up to," Ed asked, taking a swig then signaling the waitress to bring them two more glasses and another pitcher, grateful the drinking age in Amestris was 18.

"Hey, thanks," Russell accepted the ordered drinks. "I've been alright. I'm doing some really interesting research with plant alchemy," he divulged as he met Ed's gaze from under thick eye lashes.

"Don't tell me you found another mogul to fund your research," Ed laughed touching Russell's forearm slightly with his pinky finger, still holding his drink in his hand.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Not after the last time," violet-grey eyes met gold. "No, I've been working out details from the Principle of …"

"Oh, no," Winry stopped them. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to alchemical blah-dee-blah all night," she teased with good humor. "Fuery, come dance with me," she ordered as she pulled the man next to her up by the sleeve.

"A-Alright," Fuery stammered as everyone laughed at her brashness and his embarrassment.

"Hawkeye, care to dance?" Breda stood and offered her his arm, bending in a faux formal bow.

"I'd be delighted," she played along, hooking her arm in his with a slight smile.

"Best, two out of three?" Havoc asked Falman as he reached over to the small standing table behind him and grabbed the darts.

The rest of the night was filled with jokes, cheer, and good fun. Winry and Hawkeye danced with each of the men while Ed also danced with Russell. Al insisted they call Gracia to let her know they would be spending the night at their new place, but Ed was glad for his brother's foresight. He was having fun out with his friends.

As the night drew late, Hawkeye gave her team _the look_. With a little prodding, the team closed their tabs, and wished Ed a happy birthday before leaving. The birthday boy thanked them for a great time, and promised Hawkeye that she would see him bright and early the next morning.

After watching Hawkeye corral the team out, Ed turned to Russell.

"So, where are you two staying?" Ed asked.

"We just got in this morning and have been wondering around town checking out the campus facilities and looking for an apartment within an easy walk of the school. Then thinking about your broadcast yesterday, we thought we'd see if we could catch you at Central Command, but they said we just missed you. When we were leaving, some guy wearing his coat like a cape and an eye patch said you were headed over here," he explained.

Ed and Al looked at each other and knew exactly which Brigadier General had pointed the Tringhams in their direction.

"So, short answer, you haven't figured it out yet," Ed ribbed Russell a little.

"Ha, ha," Russell mock laughed. "We'll probably find a place around here, so we should also get going before it's too late and they fill up." Russell turned to where his brother and Al were in deep conversation. "Fletcher," he called. "Hey, we have to get going if we want to find a room tonight."

"Why don't you stay with us until you find a place?" Al asked, looking at his brother for confirmation.

"Yeah, we just rented a house, and there are enough beds for everyone," Ed verified, nodding to Al then turned a smile toward Russell.

"Really?" Fletcher asked hopefully.

"Sure," Ed endorsed with a smile. "What are friends for?"

"Al and I just picked up new bedding, pillows, and towels, too, so you should be all set," Winry chimed in. "Their place has plenty of room and food now," Winry added to the Tringhams.

"What about you?" Russell asked her, glancing between her and Ed. "Will you be staying there, too?"

"No, you guys can walk me back to my hotel. Granny wanted to go shopping early tomorrow for some ball bearings, so I should wake up there," she regretted.

"Alright," Al brought the debate to an end. "It's settled. We'll walk Winry back, and you guys will stay with us until you find your own place."

"Thanks, guys" Fletcher raved with exuberance.

"Yeah, thanks," Russell smiled at their good luck.

"Hey Al, why don't you guys get Winry back while I deal with the bill here. I'll meet you all at the house."

"I'll stay, too," Russell offered, holding up his almost full glass. "This way I get to finish my drink."

"Alright. Winry, are you ready to go?" Al asked.

Al had probably noticed the way Ed and Russell had been eyeing each other all night. Ed assumed his younger brother was trying to give them a moment to themselves, what with Al's insistence that he date and all. Ed had even danced with the elder Tringham in public! It would be good for him to be able to date openly, and whatever was going on between him and Mustang was over before it began, so there was no need to feel guilty. Not that he was feeling guilty or anything.

Ed hadn't forgotten how oppressive Germany had felt, and he was beginning to feel ready to let go. Now he could date whoever he wanted (so long as they wanted him) and no one cared, or at least no one cared about their gender.

"Night, guys," Winry waved from the door. "Happy birthday, Ed!" She called to the birthday boy.

"Thanks, Win. 'Night," Ed waved while Russell raised his hand and smiled at the three younger blonds as they left with the Tringhams' travel bags.

Ed signaled for the waitress to bring his check and sat back next to Russell, turning to face his handsome companion.

"So where are you doing your research now that you're in town?" Ed asked.

They ended up talking for another half hour while they finished their drinks. When Ed paid the bill, he also called a cab. He wouldn't tell Russell, but if they had to walk, he was a little too buzzed to get them to the new house without getting lost. The team _had_ been buying him drinks all night. He and Russell argued alchemic theory all the way there.

"It works," Russell claimed, turning in the back seat of the cab to face his rival, touching Ed's right knee with his fingertips. "You just have to put the catalyst first."

"No," Ed refuted, twisting his right knee up on the seat between them to confront Russell and noticed that the man's delicate fingers followed their resting place. "I'm telling you, if you put the catalyst in first, it'll slow down the reaction time," Ed asserted and placed his right hand on Russell's outstretched forearm.

"And I'm telling you," Russell emphasized by pushing lightly on Ed's well-toned chest, "this model only negatively affects reaction time if the catalyst has some sort of sodium particle." He reached for Ed's hands and put them together then pried them open like a book. "See," he directed as he began drawing notation out on Ed's gloves with his finger. "If the catalyst is entered here, and the sodium ions are removed here, then the reaction time issue is moot."

The cab stopped and Ed got out, paying the driver. Ed thought he heard the cabbie derisively say, 'Alchemists…' under his breath with a shake of his head. It made Ed smile as he turned back to his friend.

"No, Russell, you're forgetting that the interaction they have is instantaneous as soon as they come into contact. You have to transmute…" He helped Russell out of the cab with both hands and steadied him before closing the door, "you have to transmute the base elements first then the catalyst."

"Wow," Russell breathed as their ride drove away. "You live here?"

"I do as of yesterday," Ed confirmed. "Haven't even spent the night here yet."

Ed looked up to the house he and Al had signed for the day before and appreciated what Russell saw. It was a two story house with lots of large elegant windows and an inviting doorway. Grass and snow covered the fenced in the rectangular front yard. A large oak stood tall by the street, left of the walkway. It reminded Ed of the home he had burned down when he left to be a State Alchemist.

Supporting Russell with an arm wrapped around the attractive man's firm lower back, Ed held resolutely to Russell's hip. The violet-grey eyed man rested his arm around Ed's neck. The elder of the two alchemists directed them to the door as Russell rested his head on Ed's shoulder, admiring the view of the house… and of Ed.

"It's great your back," Russell mumbled rubbing his forehead against Ed's neck as the golden blond unlocked the door.

The front porch and hall lights were on, so Al and Fletcher must have been there, but they were nowhere to be seen. Only Russell's travel bag met them in the entryway. A low creak of floorboards told him they were probably upstairs already. Russell locked the door behind them.

"Thanks," Ed said with a small smile for the cute man hanging on him. He couldn't help but think that Russell must be really drunk, tired, or both.

With the amount of weight Russell was putting on Ed, it would be safer not to take the inebriated man upstairs, so they made their way to the guest room downstairs that would eventually be Ed's office. Ed flicked on the light to Russell's temporary room, and made it across as Russell nuzzled the bridge of his nose into the crook of Ed's neck for a more satisfying and comfortable position.

With a small pull of his lips, Ed sat them both down on the bed, so that he wouldn't jostle Russell. He slid the pale blonde's head off his shoulder and rested it onto the pillow. Then standing, Ed picked up the dead weight of Russell's legs, removed his shoes, and placed his unencumbered feet on the bed. Finally, Ed leaned over the prone man and pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

"Goodnight, Russell," Ed whispered with another small smile for the endearing man.

Before Ed could leave, his gloved automail was caught with more strength than he thought possible of the semiconscious man.

"I'm glad you came back," Russell stated, opening his eyes and meeting Ed's gaze more steadily than Ed expected. "I'm so glad you came back," he asserted again, but this time there was a tremble to it. "I thought…" Russell stumbled and sniffled, "I thought I'd sent you to your death." His eyes were watery. "I thought I'd killed you." Russell sat up, looking into Ed's eyes and squeezed his captured hand. "Didn't I tell you to 'come back alive?'"

Ed was taken by surprise. He hadn't thought about it from Russell's point of view before. After the Tringhams had shown him the secret doorway to the underground city so he could find Al and fight Dante, Russell's echoed plea had followed him down the long hallway, 'Just come back. Just come back alive!'

"I'm sorry, Russell," Ed apologized, taking hold of Russell's hand more firmly and solemnly meeting his watery stare. "I'm sorry I didn't come back until now, but that wasn't your fault. I went to save my brother and to fight a crazed alchemist, but none of that was your fault." Ed paused then sat down next to Russell on the edge of the bed, and faced him. "I went to save my brother, and I ended up dying," Ed continued, pursing his lips. He looked away when he saw the surprised horror on Russell's face at the unexpected disclosure. He hadn't meant to tell Russell that. "That wasn't your fault either." Ed looked off into the distance, remembering the ordeal with tears prickling in his own eyes. "Truth is, Al saved my life that night, and the only thing I could do to return him was pay the price to bring him back."

"Edward…" Russell whispered with feeling, lifting his hand and gently brushed a tear away from Ed's lower eyelashes with his thumb. He let his fingers linger on Ed's jaw as he lightly traced across the surface of the tan, smooth skin, skimming over Ed's full lips with the pad of his thumb.

Ed watched Russell's eyes. Violet-grey irises followed the movement of Russell's thumb across Ed's cheek, finally resting on his lips. Russell glanced up at him from under sensual lashes, meeting his gaze, asking without words if it was alright. The younger alchemist leaned forward, wanting more. Waiting patiently for Ed's consent, Russell breathed shallowly onto his lips, making them tingle with awareness. Ed became conscious of their bow shaped outline before moving a few millimeters forward. With that slight acquiescence, Russell closed his eyes and kissed Ed softly.

Returning the gentle kiss, Ed caressed Russell's cheek with the back of his right hand. Using his gloved automail knuckles of his dominant hand, he swept down along Russell's jaw line. He could feel the pressure plates and sensors telling his brain he was touching something, but no heat registered like it had earlier… like it had with Mustang.

Ed pulled back slowly. His partner's pale blond bangs covered his right eye, reminding Ed of Mustang's eye patch, and Ed knew it would be unfair to go any further with the man in front of him.

"Russell… I…" He began, not knowing exactly what to say.

Taking his cue, Russell nudged Ed's nose with the tip of his own then pulled back with a small sigh.

"It's alright," he promised. "At least I got to kiss you once," Russell smiled a self-deprecating smirk. "I never thought I'd even get that much." He laid back down and put his arm over his face. "Goodnight, Edward," Russell resolved.

"Night, Russell," Ed spoke softly, regretfully, as he stood then walked to the door.

"Hey, Edward?" Russell spoke into the space between them, taking his arm off his face and turning towards the door.

Ed reached the doorway and looked back over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Ed asked, feeling guilty. He wasn't sure if it was because he had let Russell kiss him when he knew the pale blond was drunk, because he had kissed Russell back, or because he had wanted it to be Mustang.

"Happy birthday," Russell offered with a small smile, holding Ed's eyes.

"Thanks," Ed replied with a small twist of his lips as he flicked off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. And Hi Russell. ;) So another long chapter, but I love it so much! I couldn't stand to cut it up since the whole afternoon/evening felt like one thought even though a lot happens. Ed sure is having quite the week, and it's only his second day back at work! I hope you liked it, too! Also, I'll be back to posting roughly every Thursday night at midnight-ish (CST). Grad school starts in a little over a week, so I might decide to start posting twice a week before I get too busy, but I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know!
> 
> *1 cenz = $0.01 USD


	32. Chapter 32

***Making Amends***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

"You should do it, Al!" Fletcher encouraged enthusiastically from his seat on the counter next to Alphonse.

"You really think I could?" Alphonse questioned nervously with an edge of hope as he stirred the sauce pan.

"Of course I do," the young, medium-blond teen nodded his head with assurance. "There's still time enough to apply. I don't see how they could refuse you."

"And with your connections, you should have no problems," added the elder Tringham. He sat leisurely in one of the four chairs at a round table in their comfortable breakfast nook.

Russell's comment rubbed Alphonse the wrong way. He didn't want use his brother's popularity or status to get undeserved privileges. It was bad enough that Brother had been allotted this massive house, or 'Elric Manor' as everyone called it thanks to Winry's wit.

Alphonse had always liked the Tringham brothers but had a deeper connection with Fletcher. When Brother and he had met the Tringhams back in Xenotime during their youth, Alphonse had immediately felt an affinity with the younger of the two.

Realizing the similarities between the Tringhams and the relationship he had with his own brother, it was obvious to Alphonse that the Tringhams acted as a mirror, showing the Elric's how others must have seen them.

It was funny how things worked out in the end. Fletcher and Russell had spent the last couple nights with the Elrics while they had looked for a place of their own to live. It was a far cry from their initial acquaintance when the Tringhams had stolen the Elrics' identities in order to further their father's work on Red Water and Red Stones. Now, the Tringhams would be moving into their new space on Sunday, and Alphonse was making Thursday night dinner before Brother got home from Central Command.

"It would be so great," Fletcher gushed. "We would be starting together, so we would definitely have some of the same courses. Wouldn't it be great, Al? We could study together!"

Alphonse had been considering the idea of what to do next with his life carefully. Brother had made it a criterion for their new home to be in the heart of Central specifically so that when Alphonse did decide what he wanted to do, they would inevitably be close by. It was so like Brother to make Alphonse a priority. He smiled to himself at the thought, feeling both love and affection for his older sibling.

Brother had always gone out of his way to make Alphonse a priority, especially when they had been searching for the Philosopher's Stone. Of course, Alphonse knew that Brother had been fueled by the guilt of pushing for the human transmutation that had claimed his body. However, Alphonse had gone along with it, so it wasn't all Brother's fault. He had wanted to see their mother, too.

His feelings now were a far cry from how he had felt about his brother right before their trip home to Amestris. He had been blinded by his insecurities as a son to an absent father and his anger at Brother for putting him in the same position again, feeling resistant to a dangerous transmutation.

Mainly he had been scared. He'd been frightened of losing his brother, of dying, of living in Germany for the rest of their lives, of never seeing home and Winry again. He had felt terrified of and guilty for the carnage back home, but he was trying to face that now.

Alphonse knew that his brother still felt guilt over a great number of things, but they were back in Amestris, and Alphonse wanted to 'keep moving forward,' as Brother would say. To do that, Alphonse had decided that he wanted to make amends for all the pain and suffering he himself had caused by opening the gateway.

Knowing full well that there was no way to completely blot out the atrocities of opening the portal and allowing an invading army in to wage war on Central, he had to try. This new academic option seemed more and more in the right vein, the more he thought about it.

"You should do it," Fletcher encouraged from his seat on the kitchen counter, his legs kicking wildly like a child in his excitement. "At least go tomorrow and get some more information. I'll go with you."

"Do what? Go where?" Brother's voice sounded curious as he entered the kitchen, having removed his grey jacket and dark shoes by the door, a fight Alphonse had won after wiping the floor with Brother during a 'discussion' on how to properly put away his things.

"Ed!" Fletcher called enthusiastically.

"Hi, Brother," Alphonse said, "welcome home."

"We are trying to convince Al to consider going to Central University with Fletcher," Russell explained, violet-grey meeting gold. He sheepishly grinned, then he looked away as if his smile hello would be found unwelcome.

Brother responded by rubbing the back of his neck, at a loss for words, but not about Al going to school.

Alphonse and Fletcher looked at each other, not knowing what to do with their elder brothers. They had both noticed a slight awkwardness that had sprung up between Brother and Russell since that first night after reconnecting and flirting so openly. Alphonse figured something had happened, but neither he nor Fletcher had wanted to comment or pry unless it got worse, so the thick silence stretched on. Brother and Russell would work it out themselves eventually, whatever it was; neither were great sharers to begin with.

"So… what do you think, Al?" Brother asked him seriously with an honest interest, doing his best to ignore the tension in the small kitchen. "Do you want to study at Central U?"

"I was thinking about it," Alphonse said, relieved for the chance to skip over the elephant in the room, "but it's so close to the start of the semester that I don't know if I would be able to start when classes do, but it would be great," he acknowledged, hiding how excited he was at the prospect as he stirred dinner.

"Then you should do it, Al," Brother told him with a smile that said he understood the pursuit of knowledge all too well, and that he wanted Alphonse to have all that he desired.

"Yeah! At least take a tour with me tomorrow," Fletcher pleaded.

Alphonse looked up, biting his lower lip. Could he? Was it ok for him pursue something he wanted? It was going to help others, right, so it should be ok, right?

Everyone there looked at him with encouragement shining in their eyes, and he nodded.

"Ok," Alphonse agreed, trying to keep from getting too excited about it. "Let's go on a tour tomorrow."

"That's great, Al, but sorry. I can't go with you; I'm going to be busy," Brother said.

"More than this? But Brother, you've been getting home late every day this week," Alphonse slightly accused.

"Yeah, well… Seems the Old Man tricked me into saying I'd do some bullshit 'Pomp and Circumstance Tour' around the country," Brother lamented.

"Really?" Fletcher asked, interested. "Where are you going?"

"The five major cities: East, North, West, and South City, then back into Central. Looks like I'm going to be gone for a couple weeks being a fucking show dog, letting everybody know just who's 'Dog' I am, and the office is working overtime to make it happen." Gold eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter on Alphonse's other side.

"Oh… Ok, well… at least you'll be able to stop and say hi to some of our friends throughout the country," Alphonse said, trying to find the silver lining of Brother being a 'Dog of the Military.' Equivalent exchange: parading brother around for a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. The least Alphonse could do was find the bright side of his sibling's obligations.

"Huh," Brother huffed, slipping on his fake smile for everyone else's benefit. "I guess, I will. Hopefully, they'll be able to make it to the stops closest them… Anyways, go visit the school tomorrow and tell me all about it before I have to do this lame ass shit. I'm sure you'll love the university," Brother encouraged; thankfully, his grin became more natural.

"That's what we were telling him," Fletcher commented, obviously happy to have Alphonse's brother's support. "We should go tomorrow to see the campus and get some information about enrolling. The semester starts in two weeks, so there's still time for him to sign up." The youngest alchemist's enthusiasm was evident and bleeding into him.

"Alright, let's go," Alphonse declared with excitement and trepidation, but having Brother's backing meant the world to him. If Brother was behind him, he felt like anything was possible.

"That's great, Al," Brother chimed with an authentic smile that told Alphonse that his older brother was truly happy for him. It made Alphonse's chest swell with confidence.

"Hurray!" Fletcher cheered and the pair of brothers laughed at his exuberance.

-8-

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Alphonse nearly shouted at Brother the moment he walked in Friday night.

"Alright, then," golden eyes laughed. "Then tell me," he said as he toed off his shoes and hung up his coat.

Alphonse was so buoyant that he barely noticed the muddy ice trail Brother had brought in with him. Instead of lecturing their primary breadwinner, he decided to tell his brother all about his day; he could clean up the mess later.

"The dean somehow found out Al was going to be on campus today and was considering going to school there, and…" Fletcher jumped in, his own excitement bubbling to the surface.

"Hey, I was going to tell him that," Alphonse complained, feeling a little deflated.

"Oops, sorry, Al," Fletcher said, covering his mouth to mime locking it and throwing away the key, but the act couldn't hold back his beaming grin.

"So, the dean?" Brother asked to gain Alphonse's attention again.

"Yeah! The dean. He gave me and Fletcher a tour _personally_ ," Alphonse said to his indulgent sibling. He remembered being shocked that the owlish man with grey tuffs of hair encircling his mocha head had seen to it that they got all of their questions answered and all the paperwork Alphonse would need to attend. "He even offered me a full ride, but I don't know how he can do that. I don't even know where my school records are, or if I have enough units to enter university level classes. We didn't exactly finish school in the traditional sense," Alphonse mumbled.

The three of them entered the kitchen where they'd left Russell, who was waiting for dinner. Violet-grey eyes dashed over to Brother followed by a small coy smile before both disappeared as if Russell was apologizing for being attracted to Alphonse's brother. Brother in turn smiled nervously, guiltily, and then twisted around to face his younger sibling.

"But, he said it was all being handled, whatever that means," Alphonse imparted to his awkward audience.

"Well, they must really want you to go there," Brother remarked with a familiar knowing smirk.

"What did you do, Brother?" Alphonse accused, placing his fists on his hips, annoyed. He knew that look.

"Nothing," Ed denied with his hands up in defense.

"You didn't?" Fletcher asked his host while placing the casserole he'd made in the oven.

Fletcher and Russell had just been telling Alphonse that his famous brother had probably contacted the school for him and pulled some strings. When Alphonse gave Brother a stern look, the elder Elric gave a small shrug.

"I just called the university, when I had a minute, to see if I could get a little more information about what they would need to admit you. Once they realized who I was talking about, they couldn't stop blabbering about doing anything possible to help you attend, if that's what you wanted," Brother smirked, but Alphonse was not happy.

"So you used your notoriety to get me preferential treatment?" Alphonse accused.

"What wrong with that?" Russell wondered out loud. "You should use any leg up you can get."

"I don't want to be singled out for being Fullmetal's kid brother," Alphonse heatedly explained then turned to the eldest in the kitchen. "Brother, I want to get in on my own merits, and for you to be so heavy handed just to get me in…" he began to rant but his brother waved him off.

"Relax, Al. I didn't say who I was. I just asked anonymously what the requirements for admission were and that I was calling on your behalf. My name didn't even come up," Brother explained. "They knew you were there helping to fight on _Invasion Day_ from the newspapers. Honest. They didn't even ask who I was, but once they knew who you were, they couldn't help tripping over themselves to connect me with the dean."

"Really?" Alphonse felt unsure. If that was true…

"Yeah, Al," Brother promised. "The guy couldn't stop talking about how great it was that you were considering them. When I told them you were going to be stopping by for information, he promised that you would get everything you needed."

"I don't know," he doubted. Alphonse had been feeling slightly dizzy from the attention he had received and had wanted to share his excitement with his brother over the Pre-Med program. Although he had felt deflated to think that the only reason the university had wanted him was due to his brother. But if they really did want him for himself, he could relish in his excitement.

"Ah, come on, Al," his brother pleaded. "They want you for you. Now tell me all about how the dean of the university gave my little brother a personal tour!"

Alphonse gave in and gushed about his day with Fletcher while Brother smiled his broadest, proudest, most genuine grin. Russell sat back and listened as Fletcher peppered in details Alphonse left out. Alphonse told both older brothers about the libraries and common areas, the laboratories and faculty, as well as the curriculum and programs.

"Brother, it was amazing. The main library was like walking through an amalgam of every library in Amestris culminating in a huge collection of the brightest minds convening in a single building!" Alphonse described in a single breath. "Dean Yates also said that he would introduce us to some of the faculty if we wanted. We didn't want to intrude, but he said we could sit in on a guest lecture if we wanted."

"And did you?" Russell asked curiously, looking to Fletcher and ostensibly not peeking at Brother.

"Yup. We sure did! Tell him about the lecture, Al!" the youngest of the four prodded.

"Right! It was on 'Alchemy, Alkahestry, and Anatomy,' given by a visiting scholar. She's a Xingese princess! Can you imagine taking classes from royalty? She's going to be teaching an entire class on the topic this upcoming semester!"

"Sounds like an interesting course. I never did get to figure out the difference between our alchemy and the Xingese version, except for the application…" Brother began to think out loud, but stopped himself in order to focus on his younger brother. He asked Alphonse about the laboratories available, and Alphonse appreciated his restraint. Brother loved knowledge just as much as he did, maybe even more. "What about the work spaces and labs?"

"They're state of the art," Alphonse cheered. "They even have an anatomy lab specifically for the Pre-Med students! And the classes! There's a course on just about anything you could ever want to study."

"Well, Al, it sounds like you've already made up your mind," Brother beamed at him. "So what do we need to do?"

"Dean Yates told me he'd take care of everything. All I need to do is fill out the formal application and some financial aid forms then drop them off with him," Alphonse squealed, pointing to the papers on the table. He was bouncing up and down on his toes with Fletcher, neither able to hold back his jubilation. Brother was supporting him, and the university was waiting. "I'm going to go fill these out right now," Alphonse sang as he ran over to the table and began to do just that.

When Alphonse looked up an hour later, Brother was placing a bowl of Fletcher's hot casserole in front of him. He was surprised to have lost track of time.

"Sorry Brother, I forgot about dinner; I was just so excited," he apologized, scrabbling to organize the papers in front of him as the others cleared their empty plates.

"It's fine Al," Brother chuckled with a genuine smile. "I didn't want to disturb you, since you seemed so intent."

The guilt over the forgotten meal left him in a rush. He was so happy to see his brother's real smile; Brother wore it so seldom, but when it came to Alphonse, his brother had nothing but honest cheer. He wished that Brother would be this happy all the time.

"If you want, we can drop off your application on the way to Elicia's birthday party tomorrow morning, but their office will be closed. We'd have to use their drop box," Brother offered. "Or Fletcher offered to go with you on Monday when they're open. I think Russell has to work and I'll be on a train."

"I'd love for you to see the campus before your trip," Alphonse hedged slightly embarrassed.

"Then tomorrow morning it is," Brother confirmed with another grin, rubbing Alphonse's hair affectionately.

Alphonse could see things gradually turning around. They were home. Friends and family were here supporting them. Even though Brother was still under his military contract and was about to make a national tour, he had the General and the team to support him. And now with Alphonse's admittance to Central University, he could finally begin taking steps to make amends.


	33. Chapter 33

***Love Triangle Anyone?***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

 

“Blow out your candles, Elicia! Edward!” Gracia called sweetly as she snapped a photo.

Smirking at the sight and sound of the green eyed woman with short mousey brown hair behind the familiar camera, Ed was reminded powerfully of Hughes. He smiled wider, meeting his eyes with the mass of close friends and strangers behind Gracia, making a silent wish for days like today to come more often. Ed puffed out his cheeks exaggeratedly and exhaled together with the squealing nine-year-old girl beside him.

Hughes would have been so proud.

Almost everyone he cared about was here. Mustang patently smirked at him next to a smiling Hawkeye. Giggling like school girls, Havoc and Breda were doubling over while Falman and Fuery simply beamed. All the soldiers were dressed in their civilian clothes this Saturday afternoon; it was a rare sight he hoped ended up on film.

Beside Gracia stood Granny Pinako. She held her hands behind her back with her pipe tucked into her waist band. Winry and Al crowded around the table to Ed’s left side while he himself huddled with Elicia in the center. Beyond his brother, Russell and Fletcher stood off to the side, but they still smiled, both thankful to Gracia for inviting them.

It had been sweet of her to include the Tringhams as Ed and Al’s guests. It would have been awkward to leave them behind as they had just found a place to live, staying at Elric Manor until they could move in tomorrow. Gracia had of course opened her door and heart to the other orphaned brothers, greeting them with hugs and smiles.

A few unfamiliar people to the right of Elicia were parents of the children sitting across from the birthday pair. They all eyed him with a slightly nervous reverence, which was why Havoc and Breda were laughing, he was sure. Ed absently wondered if any of the other guests were related to Gracia or if they were simply here to chaperone their children and stare at him.

Once the candles were out and the applause stopped, Ed took the cake from in front of him and Elicia, sliding it over to Winry. She was wheedling a knife, ready to cut it. Who had decided it was safe to let Winry hold a pointy metal object close to him?

“Pass it over,” Winry ordered with a huge smile on her face, waving the knife back and forth.

“Ok, ok,” Ed chuckled uneasily. “Geeze, metal addict much?”

“Ha! Look who’s talking,” she shot back good humoredly.

He had fond, but very distinct, memories of her swinging wrenches at his head and was glad she was happy today. Warily, he smiled again. Better not to antagonize Winry when she was holding anything that could be classified as a weapon.

He cautiously moved the layered pastry in front of his childhood friend before turning his attention to the squealing little birthday girl next to him. As he took in Elicia’s appearance, he realized that she wasn’t so little anymore. In fact, she was almost tall enough to reach his sternum. Feeling guilty that he had missed so much of her life, he redoubled his resolve to be there for the light of Hughes’ life.

The dirty blonde haired girl beside him, who usually wore pigtails, modeled a large pink ribbon that tied up half her locks. The thick satin string matched her party dress without the white eyelet lace accent. She was adorable with her dimpled grin.

Elicia wiggled into his side to hug him tightly. Mindful of his automail, he pulled her into his grasp, returning the happy squeeze then released her.

“Can you do it now?” she nearly begged while pulling on his arm. “You promised!” Then, thinking it over added an endearing, “please, Big Brother Ed?”

Shit. She so had him wrapped around her little finger, and they both knew it.

“Alright,” he grinned at his youngest sister whole heartedly. “Where is she?”

The exuberant girl heeded his request, and her new favorite doll was pushed into his hands. Gracia had told him that she’d been carrying it around with her since he’d given it to her Monday night. He had yet to see her without it today, even when she was opening her small mountain of presents, and it had filled him with love.

Taking the gift in hand, he eyed her with mock seriousness and she nodded back earnestly. He placed it on the table in the cleared space the cake had vacated, and made a show of flexing his hands.

“Ok, Lici. Here we go,” and he could feel all eyes on him as he clapped his hands together. The sound stilled all conversation as blue streaks of energy sprung from his fingers, the perfect array for his purposes in his mind’s eye. Ed touched his hands to the doll, and shocked gasps filled the room as the frock on the figurine transformed to match Elicia’s dress, shade and style, everything down to the eyelet accents and ribbon in its hair.

The room’s approval and applause pulled him out of his private moment with his sister. Their attention made him uncomfortable, but his work made Elicia squeak with joy and shower him with kisses, so he guessed it was worth it. The outsiders just gawked at him as if he had treated them to a show.

“Never let it be said that your fashion sense has not improved with age,” Mustang quipped over the crowd’s murmurs. “You even managed the lace. I was half expecting gargoyle skulls,” he noted the matching detail of the doll’s dress to Elicia’s own with faux admiration.

“Shows what you know,” Ed retorted out of habit. “Little girls don’t usually like bada…” and his mother gave him a _look_ and he rephrased, “uh, really cool Gothic elements.”

“It’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Elicia squeaked, hugging the doll to her chest and then wrapping her arms around Ed’s neck again.

Those who knew him in his younger years laughed, and Ed joined in as he hugged her back. He thought back to his badass transmutations featuring large Gothic adornments, but obviously those wouldn’t be appreciated by a nine-year-old girl in a pink dress.

Now as sliced cake and dollops of ice cream were passed around, the crowd dispersed. Ed took in the room once more. It was filled with good cheer and friends. He felt contentment fill him. There was nothing pressing, except Grumman’s damn goodwill tour he’d have to leave for tonight, but no one was trying to kill him, no one was plotting a hostile takeover – well, that he knew of –, and no one was even harassing him. He was just present, and it was perfect. Well, nearly.

His eyes took in Russell and Mustang as each stood with their respective peers. The first smiled sheepishly at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before turning back to Winry’s demanding comment while the second laughed at a joke one of his subordinates told.

Ed had been feeling awkward with each of them, but he didn’t know what to do about either. One obviously wanted him while the other had told him to look elsewhere; though, both of them were obviously attracted to him. He’d seen it in stolen little moments. And while he was clearly drawn to both alchemists in return, his feelings for Mustang felt like chains keeping him from moving forward with Russell, just as they had on his birthday.

Thinking about it made his brow crinkle and his lips purse for a moment as his heart ached, constricting in an uncomfortable way. Ed quickly shook the look from his features. He didn’t want to think about this right now, especially with all these eyes on him, surrounding him.

Wolfing down his cake (no ice cream for him, thank you very much! It was made from that disgusting white shit!), he stood and crossed the room for a drink. As he poured himself some punch, he became aware of a presence beside him. Turning, he found his mother smiling at him.

“Having fun?” Gracia asked with a knowing look that told Ed he hadn’t hidden his earlier discomfort quickly enough.

“Yeah. It’s great to see everyone together like this,” Ed replied.

“Yes, it is.” Her innocent smile and eyes told him he wasn’t out of the woods yet. She knew something was off. “Maes would have loved this.”

“Yeah, he’d be taking pictures all over the place,” Ed chuckled.

He could see it now. Hughes would have been in everyone’s personal space, taking pictures and showing off recent ones. He’d have been waving them in Mustang’s face, or anyone’s really, asking questions he wouldn’t have let you answer about how adorable Elicia was in whatever snap shot he would have been shoving in your eye line.

A sad smile touched Ed's lips as he thought about Maes Hughes. It had always irritated him to be swamped by Hughes, insisting in that dopey voice that he look at the same photo he’d seen ten times, but damn if it didn’t embody Hughes. His love for his family sparkling in his goo-goo eyes and widening his goofy grin. The man who had been there for Ed, had treated him like a son, and had loved him, but was gone now.

“So what’s wrong?” Gracia asked in a subtle tone that said she wouldn’t spread it around, whatever it was.

“Who says something’s wrong?” Ed hedged. “Al and I are finally home, all the people I care about are safe, and we’re celebrating.”

He didn’t know how well Gracia would take his interest in Mustang or Russell, or any man for that matter. It wasn’t that he thought she was close-minded or anything like that, but… Uh. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable telling, for all tense and purposes, his mother about his romantic interests, male or female.

“You know, Edward,” she began, “caring about someone is one thing, but opening yourself up to love and being loved is something completely different.”

“H-huh?” Ed stuttered. How did she… and people at Central Command were talking about making him an ambassador! This right here was exactly why that was seriously a stupid ass idea. He couldn’t keep his emotions off his face to save his life.

“You look a little torn, dear. If you are willing to love someone, then you should,” she spoke to him but looked across the room.

Ed followed her gaze to where Mustang stood laughing with the team, one hand on Havoc’s shoulder. Ed looked back at her with a slight blush, surprised but then not. He should have known. She knew a man’s heart just by looking at him.

“And if they don’t want you to?” Ed questioned quietly after a few seconds under her perceptive eyes.

“Then sometimes the best thing to do is move on,” she pursed her own lips and frowned in irritation at the General. “You deserve better than a fool who doesn’t know your worth.”

At that Ed laughed, a big hearty chuckle that reached down to his toes but didn’t shine in his eyes.

“Then again,” she continued looking over to the other side of the room, “there are others that _do_ want you to.”

Ed didn’t have to follow her gaze this time to know she meant Russell. Soft violet-grey eyes hidden behind light blond hair had been following him all day. He guiltily looked down past the rim of his cup.

“And what if I can’t move on?” Ed asked swirling the fruity liquid he held thinking it could use some alcohol. “It wouldn’t be fair to him,” he lamented just above a whisper and sighed heavily, still not meeting her judgment.

“You’ll never know unless you try, Edward,” she prompted, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder then lightly squeezed until he looked up at her understanding smile. “Just let him know what’s going on in that head of yours… and in your heart. That’s how you’ll be fair to him.”

And with that piece of advice, she left him to clear her guests’ plates as the party began to wind down. Ed considered what she had said as he receded to the cold back door that looked out at the porch beyond. He surveyed behind the house at the alabaster landscape of snow, loitering there as the guests began to trickle out the front.

-8-

Roy laughed cheerfully at the Havoc’s jest, grasping the other man’s shoulder while trying not to spill his own drink. He was enjoying this relaxing time with his men; it had been far too long. He had been hard at work for the last two and a half years, and the two before when he was in that desolate place… well, let’s just say he was happy to be in good humor once again in the company of his loyal soldiers.

Gracia had kindly invited the whole team to Elicia’s birthday party; unfortunately, Armstrong, Ross and Brosh were on duty today and wouldn’t be able to attend. Of course the invitation now included Fullmetal and his guests. It went without saying that Alphonse was there along with Miss Rockbell and her grandmother, but the offer had oddly enough also included the Tringhams.

Roy remembered having a discussion with the elder of the two, Russell if he recalled properly, a couple of years ago. He had needed to know about the Red Stones his team had found in the Forgotten City, and after a few intimidating words about Nash Tringham’s sons’ illicit research and their Elric impersonations, Russell had explained the pertinent information needed to keep the Stones safe within R&D’s vaults.

Naturally, the Elrics would forgive the Tringham’s transgressions, having made mistakes in their own past. Roy should have known they would have gone above and beyond, making friends with the pale blond brothers. As he appraised the trio of younger alchemists (Alphonse, Russell and the younger Tringham Roy couldn't name) and Fullmetal’s mechanic, he heard their missing compatriot laugh low and hard from the punch bowl on the other side of the room.

Roy looked over to find Gracia and Fullmetal exchanging words then watched his host eye Russell with a soft smile. Interested, he looked to his youngest officer to find the amber toned man look sadly at the floor. Frowning, Roy watched Gracia grip his shoulder lightly before imparting some last words, leaving Fullmetal to his thoughts.

Why would Gracia be fond of Russell? Hadn’t she just met the young man a few hours ago? And why was Fullmetal troubled? No… it looked more like guilt than unhappiness. Not that those two emotions didn’t usually walk hand in hand for Fullmetal, but what about the elder Tringham made the famous alchemist regretful? Roy couldn’t think of a plausible reason.

Hmm. The Tringhams were indebted to the Elrics for Xenotime and changing their lives around, Russell had told him as much when he had originally spoken to the elder son. So why would Fullmetal be feeling guilty now?

Curious, Roy decided he needed to go on a fact finding mission before confronting the man he would be sharing a two-day train ride with. It would begin their two week-long trip. They were leaving on the last train tonight for Grumman’s idea of appropriate celebration of Fullmetal’s return: a grand tour of the country’s five major cities. Their first stop was East City, followed by South, West, North, and then back home to Central for the finale.

He just hoped they would be able to get through without it becoming as awkward as the office had been this past week. For obvious reasons, neither he nor his Colonel had wanted to spend much time being overly friendly. They didn’t know how to talk to one another anymore; the entertaining and antagonistic banter from their years of working together had been lost, and the team had begun to notice the disquiet of their two superiors as they all worked out the tour’s logistics. This was why he needed to get as much information as possible on Fullmetal’s state of mind before their publicity stunt. No other reason.

Decamping to the younger group as Russell was distracted from his companions’ heated conversation, Roy left his team. He moved to engage them, noticing that the pale violet-grey eyed alchemist smiled shyly in Fullmetal’s direction. The General raised his eyebrow catching the younger man’s attention before Miss Rockbell commandeered Russell’s mind again.

Roy stocked his prey. Detaching from the arguing younger blonds, Russell began to cross the room towards the punch bowl and into Roy’s line of fire. Just as they were a few feet from one another, Roy could hear Miss Rockbell above the low den of festive noise.

“If you want to spend all your time with _her_ , then do it, Al. See if I care!” She yelled in the younger Elric’s face.

“Winry, Princess May would only be my teacher, I swear,” Alphonse called out panicking as he trailed after her with a thread borne look in his eye, leaving Fletcher Tringham to awkwardly float towards the curious soldiers in the room.

Roy’d have to get Hawkeye to ask the mechanic what that was all about before he left. Fullmetal would surely be concerned. Better have a handle on the situation before heading out of town. He needed to mend the bridge between himself and his Colonel, and he didn’t need Fullmetal distracted with other people’s drama, even if it was Alphonse’s relationship with Miss Rockbell.

Returning his focus back to the sharp, pale blond in front of him, their gaze locked.

“General Mustang,” intelligent pastel lavender grey eyes shone coldly.

“Russell Tringham. Glad to see you’re staying out of trouble,” Roy confirmed. He’d kept a cursory watch on the young man since the first run in with Fullmetal almost a decade ago.

“We had a deal, right? Only share my old research with you, don’t impersonate Edward or Al, and no one’ll come after me or my brother?” Russell anxiously inquired in a rushed, quiet voice.

“Correct; immunity for information and being yourselves,” Roy verified, his work face on, slightly smug but not obnoxiously so.

“Well, that’s fine then,” Russell relaxed, but then was on guard again, “as long as you keep your word.”

“That depends on you,” leaning into the younger alchemist’s space, Roy stared flatly behind his mask.

“Hm,” Russell acknowledged and backed off, then changed the subject. “So, how does a brash General like you end up at a little girl’s birthday party?”

“I doubt Fullmetal would appreciate being called little… or a girl.” Roy smirked as Russell’s face grew red.

“That’s not what I meant,” the fair-haired man refuted, annoyed.

“As for Elicia, I am her _Tutator*_ ,” Roy casually explained.

“Really? How does that work?” Surprised and curious, his informant asked him, forgetting some of his irritation.

“Her father was my best friend. If something happens to Gracia now that Maes is gone, I’ll be responsible for raising Elicia.”

Thoughtfully, Russell considered the General, as if seeing him in a new light. It unnerved Roy, so he decided to take a new tact.

“In fact, he and Gracia acted as such for Fullmetal and Alphonse, as much as they could; I’m assuming they are how you got an invitation to today’s get together.”

Silently, Russell nodded his head in confirmation and looked fondly at the gilded man with a long ponytail by the rear door.

“It is so like them,” Roy smirked, distracted by memories of the Elrics and Hughes interacting with people over the years, “to invite strangers…”

“Hey, Edward’s my friend,” Russell angrily cut in.

“…into their lives…” Roy continued unperturbed.

“And into their homes,” an obstinate Russell finished for him. “Fletcher and I have been staying with Edward and Al all week,” he added to prove his point.

Silence fell out of Roy’s open mouth. Taking a sip of his almost forgotten drink allowed him recovery time, so he didn’t look like a gaping fish. He barely managed to keep his calm façade in place, though.

“Oh, so you didn’t know?” A malicious smile burgeoned on Russell’s features as he sensed that the tables had turned somehow. “Edward invited us to live with him and Al until we can move into our own place.”

“I see,” Roy acknowledged, now annoyed that he hadn’t gotten word beforehand; he’d better get more information on the Tringhams than he currently had. “Tell me, what are you and your brother doing here in Central?”

“Fletcher is starting at Central University soon.” The pride in his voice at his brother’s accomplishment was evident to the General as Russell continued, “And actually, _last night at dinner_ ,” Russell inserted with a slight emphasis on his words that made Roy wonder at their intent, “we finally convinced Al to join him.”

“At dinner,” Roy repeated, his annoyance growing behind his placid guise. It was to be expected that house guests would have dinner with their hosts, but the way the elder Tringham said it… It implied a closer intimacy than friendship usually allowed.

“That’s when Edward gets home. Never misses a meal, that one,” Russell adjoined nonchalantly.

“Sounds about right,” Roy agreed, remembering the astounding food bills Fullmetal had raked up over his years of service, years he’d traveled with an armored brother who was unable to eat.

“Anyways, I should go find him. Gotta get going. It’s my turn to cook, and I wanted to thank Mrs. Hughes again before we leave.”

“Please do,” Roy nodded absently.

“I’ll keep my word, General,” Russell leaned in to whisper seriously. “Just keep yours.”

Roy made eye contact with him, but didn’t reply. He knew the arrangement; however, he resented orders, especially from civilians.

“Well, General, it was … interesting,” Russell intoned. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Roy politely replied, turning to say goodbye to his men and then their host. Before leaving, he gave Hawkeye orders to ascertain the situation between the younger Elric and Miss Rockbell, to investigate the Tringhams, and to pick him up tonight with plenty of time to review her findings. He had to make sure everything was in order; he had a train to catch tonight.

-8-

Silent flakes fell before him, adding to the mounds on the ground. Ed couldn’t help but slide numbly into his mind as he considered his adoptive mother’s words.

Could he tell Russell how he felt? It had been so awkward at home this week. He had taken the long way and stopped at the book store after work just to make the time in his full house shorter. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry Russell, but I’ve got a thing for my intelligent, smart-ass, beautiful, annoying, bastard of a CO, but I want to give this a try?’ That seemed cruel somehow.

Remembering his birthday, he could feel Russell's light kiss. He recalled kissing Russell back, feeling soft touches along his cheek, and smelling subtle hints of alcohol on his lips. He wished he hadn’t let a drunk guy kiss him, but he also wanted to know where that kiss could have led. Really, Ed felt guilty for taking advantage; however, if they were both sober, could they start again?

Turning from that thought, he reflected instead on his superior. They were going to be spending the next two weeks together, and Ed wasn’t sure he could take it. It was already this awkward. He wondered how being stuck in a train with Mustang for days at a time would be.

Speaking of their eminent trip, Ed still needed to pack his new suitcase when he got home. Winry had bought it when she’d heard about his trip. It was laughingly similar to the one he’d left behind in Germany, sans bullet holes. Now he simply had to fill it.

He began to list out what he thought he might need. Obviously, he needed to bring clothes, and old man Grumman had told him to bring his uniform. That still pissed him off. Why should he have to bring the damn thing, much less wear it? He never had before. He rolled his eyes. Fuck it; it’s fine. The Old Man just wanted to show off who Ed fucking worked for.

He continued mentally selecting items to take with him. On top of all that bullshit, his assessment was looming, so he would be taking his recent acquisitions: the new books he’d been buying all week as he whittled down the awkward time at home with his houseguests. It had become his guilty pleasure – buying _his own_ books for _his own_ bookcase.

Then, unbidden, he thought of the first book he had received since his return. The feel of worn leather from an ancient text’s cover still lingered through his gloves onto his fingers; regretfully, he’d had to give it back. Such a thoughtful gift felt too heavy in his heart.

Breathing out hard and fogging the glass door shielding him from the elements, he sighed. He wished for the millionth time that he would just get over the stupid bastard. Obviously the man didn’t want him as he had hoped, and why would he? He was covered in scars, inside and out. Besides, he wasn’t even a whole man. His familiar dark thoughts spiraled around in his mind as he wiped the glass clear with his gloved right hand. His morose and morbid views stung as he caught the glint off his automail wrist below his cuff.

Ed frowned out at the back patio, wishing he could go outside and feel the briskness of the light snow on his face. Maybe it would smack some sense into him, to chase away the heat he felt at the thought of Mustang in his arms that night or the fact that he really only had the one human arm to begin with.

In reality, he didn’t want to be out in the cold with his automail. His ports were already aching as it was, and the frigid air would gnaw at him the moment he stepped outside. He and his housemates were going to have to walk home in this anyways, not that it was far. Ed shook himself to change his thinking. He didn’t need to be imagining the cold; he’d feel it soon enough. If only there was a way…

Inspired, he pulled out his pocket notebook from his jacket. Scribbling, he roughly sketched an array that would heat the air without doing a full change of state transmutation. Maybe he could figure out the subtleties of manipulating the temperature by speeding the air molecules or arranging the atoms without vaporizing them into steam.

“Ready to go, Edward?” came a voice that surprised him out of his intense concentration. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you’d hear me coming,” Russell said from behind him.

“One… second…” he frowned at the design in his hand as he put the finishing touches on it. “Hmm… Ah! Got it!” Ed cried triumphantly, adding another flourish, “Yes!” He spun around and showed Russell the result.

“A heating array?” Russell asked surprised as he studied the depiction on the page.

“It’ll warm the air around my automail without scalding me. I’ll just have to adjust the temperature with trial and error,” Ed admitted taking back his notes while glancing nervously at Russell. “Don’t smirk at me like that. It’ll work.”

“You’re impressive, you realize that, right?” Russell chuckled. “Coming up with something like that on the fly; it’s so you,” his smile broadening.

“Yeah, well…” Ed hid his blush at the praise in his bangs by ducking his head as he put his notebook away in his jacket pocket.

“So, you ready to go?” Russell asked oblivious to Ed’s inner turmoil. “If we’re going to have dinner together before you leave, I have to get started on it soon.”

Ed pursed his lips as he considered the attractive man in front of him. Russell was looking at him with affection and a teasing grin. Leaving with things left unsaid felt wrong. He should at least try to explain what was holding him back from being in a relationship with Russell. While he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to the guy, he would follow his mother’s advice and tell the plant alchemist what was on his mind… and in his heart.

“Listen, Russell…” Ed began unsteadily.

“Yes?” Russell questioned, tilting his head slightly while waiting for the turn in conversation.

“I, um… I need to talk to you… uh… about the other night,” Ed stuttered out, gripping his hands closed nervously.

“You don’t have to…” Russell brushed it off, looking away.

“But I need to,” Ed cut in with a rush, as if he’d lose his nerve if he faltered now.

“Oh. Uh, ok…” Anxiously, Russell waited, probably thinking Ed meant to give him the brutal rejection he had somehow missed on the night in question.

“Well, I, uh… when you kissed me, I, uh… I really like you Russell, I just… um…”

Where was all of Kai’s training? Why couldn’t he get this out without stumbling all over himself? Fuck, he was a total idiot.

“Well, when I saw you again at my party, and we just clicked, and then when I brought you home… not that that’s why I brought you home, but I… uh… well… I…” Ed stumbled in a rush of words and pauses looking for the right way to say what he needed to.

“Take a breath” Russell advised kindly, squeezing Ed’s bicep then let go, his hand falling to his side.

“I just…” Inhaling deeply, Ed then exhaled and began again, calmer this time. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff, ok? Just ask Noah.”

“Who’s Noah?” Russell asked confused.

“My ex, but never mind her,” Ed waved off. “I’m trying to say that… before I leave, you should know that… while I really do like you, Russell, I’m still hung up on someone else,” he sighed, “and it wasn’t fair for me to take advantage of the situation, especially since you were drunk that night and all and…”

“Whoa, Edward. Slow down.” Russell held up both hands in a stop motion. “First off, I’m glad to hear that you like me.” He smiled a warm grin with gentle, caring eyes peeking out from behind his bangs. “I like you too, and not just in a ‘one night’ kinda way, either. As for your ex-girlfriend and whoever you’re hung up on, I don’t care. We’re good together. I can tell.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Ed asked in disbelief, butterfly wings stirring in his gut.

“For starters, take Tuesday night for example. Before we went back to your place, we were talking alchemy, drinking, dancing, and laughing all night. Then take after we went back to your place…” The butterflies in Ed’s stomach decided to flutter up to his chest and back down. “You kissed me back. It was such a great first kiss, Edward,” Russell said as he took Ed’s hand. “There’s chemistry between us; you know it, and so do I.”

“Yeah, I guess, but…” Ed wavered, looking away.

“But what?” Russell challenged as he held Ed’s hand up, trying to catch golden eyes.

“Russell, I have a bunch of issues,” Ed lamented lamely, shaking his head dismissively, but meeting violet-grey. They were the color of predawn, the color that always gave Ed a sense of peace in the world.

“Issues? Who doesn’t?” Russell leveled his eyes at Edward, an earnest look on his features. “Your mother died; so did mine. Your father ran off; so did mine. You turned to alchemy to fill the void; so did I. You look after your brother because he is your world; so do I. You’re brilliant, funny, sexy as hell, not to mention how gorgeous you are…”

Blushing and feeling slightly lightheaded, Ed felt his heart beat out of rhythm. He looked down as Russell took both of his hands and linked their fingers.

“Edward, I see how you look at me,” Russell disclosed in a near whisper and Ed’s eyes shot up locking with Russell’s. “I know you want to be with me, but what I can’t understand is why you seem so guilty about it.”

“I…” Ed choked trying to find words for his mouth to use, but the damn butterflies were multiplying and were now blocking air from getting into his lungs.

“I have a confession,” Russell continued, then took a visible gulp. “I wasn’t as drunk as I seemed Tuesday night.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ed joked, trying to relieve the tension in his gut.

“Well, I was nervous, and I wanted to be with you… We seemed to be getting along really well, and then you were starting to get all intellectual on me. I wanted you to think about _me_ and not my projects.”

Stunned, Ed simply stood there, holding Russell’s hands. Warmth from his deepening blush spread down his left arm to their joined fingers.

“Would you consider going out with me, Edward?” Russell’s violet-grey eyes searched molten gold. “Forget your hang ups, your ex, your crush. Go out with me. Let’s see where this goes.”

After a beat of pleading eyes, butterfly aeronautics, and self-doubt, Ed replied.

“One problem,” he noted seriously.

“Another one?” Russell sounded amused.

“I’m on Grumman’s damn ‘Welcome Home Tour’ for the next two weeks,” Ed explained sourly.

“Edward, if I can wait four and a half years for you to come home, I think I can handle another couple weeks. Plus, we still have until you leave tonight, right? Let me walk you home, make you dinner, and maybe even kiss you goodbye. Call me when you can and I’ll be waiting for you when you get back. Just…” nervous now, he appealed, “just give us a try.”

Taking another deep breath, he expelled all of his reservations.

“I can do that,” Ed promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Tutator: Protector, defender, guardian, patron in Latin. I figure this would basically be like a ‘godparent’ in a world that doesn’t have Christianity (or that Christianity was an ancient religion that was no longer around).
> 
> Ok, as promised, the beginnings of Russ/Ed. What do you think so far? Love it? Hate it? Wanna see what happens? Hahaha. Just wait ;)
> 
> Oh, and as for my earlier note about posting more chapters... I will be posting once a week still, but if I get some extra time I will post another chapter, just like this week. We'll see how that goes, I guess. And thanks to those of you who have commented about my move, starting grad school, or the story. I live off of your kind and wonderful reviews/comments! They make me giddy and want to post even more!!


	34. Chapter 34

***Packing***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

The walk home from the Hughes' went better than expected, even if a prickly Winry came, too. Granny Pinako had decided to stay with Gracia and Elicia; it was too cold for her aging joints to take. Ed had nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. He's kissed his mother on the cheek and hugged his little sister tight, but not before he'd promised to take her to the sweet shop when he got back from his 'tour.'

Boisterous laughter followed the five blonds as they crossed the heart of Central to Elric Manor, as Ed held hands with Russell. Looking over to Russell, the subtly smile he wore was smug, but it was still endearing. And if Ed had to guess how Fletcher was taking the obvious news, he'd say the youngest of the group's face splitting grin was a good sign.

Surprisingly, Ed's younger brother and oldest friend each only gave him minimal loaded looks; however, he wasn't in the clear. It was like Al and Winry thought they were predators waiting to pounce on a scared bunny, as if he would run away from this decision if they commented. When had he ever done that? Once he decided on a path, he stuck to it, even the disastrous ones.

As much as Ed wanted to spend time with Russell and develop their new relationship further, he needed to pack as soon as they all walked in the door. Russell nodded in understanding and squeezed his hand before letting go, heading off to make dinner with Fletcher. Ed, on the other hand, sped off to his bedroom before the vultures could decend. He immediately began plundering his closet and bookshelves as a determined Al and a nearly sprinting Winry entered his room to pester him for details.

"And just how long have you guys been dating?!" Winry demanded as she had swung around the door jab into his bedroom after Al.

"About five minutes," Ed replied in a huff as he dug out his uniform from the back of his closet.

"Brother, why didn't you say anything?" Al wanted to know as he sunk onto the head of the full bed in the corner of the room, opening Ed's new suitcase next to him. Winry nodded her agreement as she took Ed's military blues from him, folding them into his luggage that lay between her and Al on the mattress.

"Do either of you tell me who you want to fucking date?!" Ed retaliated a little angrier than he'd meant. Feeling defensive and embarrassed, he turned to his texts on the wooden bookshelves along the wall and pulled those he'd need.

"Ok," Winry conceded after a moment in which Ed noticed that neither she nor Al looked at each other or at him. "Then who made the first move?" She dug for specifics.

"You were there," he swished his wrist, but had to stop to think about it. "Russell did… I guess." He handed over a few books to be packed to his brother on the way to his closet again for 'day clothes.'

"Have you kissed yet?" She gushed excitedly, clasping her hands under her chin. Ed could nearly see the twinkles surrounding her.

"Um…" Ed stalled, stiffening as his blush colored his cheeks; he didn't want to talk about it with his kid brother or his childhood friend. He threw basically everything Gracia had made him buy at them over his shoulder: a few pair of underwear, pants, matching vests, undershirts, white button down shirts, and sleeve garters. They caught the sailing apparel out of the air, piece by piece as if it was all well-orchestrated.

"Was it good?" Al and Winry echoed in unison astounded, still holding his clothes aloft.

"No comment," he replied as flatly as he could, but he felt his blush crawl over the back of his ears and down his neck, giving him away. The two younger blonds both giggled, and Ed roughly grabbed a few books off another bookshelf across the room.

"Aw, come on!" Winry whined as she flopped down on his bed then placed his now folded, yet nondescript, clothing in his case. She continued with a litany of demands and pleas for particulars. "You gotta give me a little detail."

"No!" Ed growled at her, tossing a book to Al to add to the pile before he turned around for another few titles.

"Well, have you slept together yet?" Al's voice had carried over Winry's muffled pleading.

"What?!" Ed shouted as he spun around so fast he was dizzy. Or maybe it was the topic that made his head spin. "Who are you, and what have you done with my innocent little brother?"

Winry and Al laughed at his stunned face. When they all calmed down, Ed could tell Al steeling himself for what his little brother obviously needed to ask but hadn't been able to find the right way or time. Ed had done his best to change the subject, but there was no getting around it tonight.

"What about _the General_?" Al inquired in a whisper while Winry gasped, losing all her humor as she stared with wide eyes and mouth agape.

Oh, fuck! Ed hadn't known how to broach this issue with her about Mustang. How could he? As a Major in Ishval, Roy Mustang had killed her parents; how was Ed supposed to tell his best friend that he had feelings for the man? Would she even accept that? Could she?

"What _about_ the General?" Ed cautiously questioned his younger brother, not looking at Winry. His hackles rose at the reminder of the older man.

"Um… After we got back, you two were always watching each other, and you guys had that spark, you know?" Al explained, embarrassed, as if discussing a taboo topic. Which of course he was. Well, of course asking if Ed had slept with Russell was easier than asking about that. Whatever. "I just assumed you two would…"

"Well, obviously that's not what fucking happened," Ed sounded more hurt than he wanted to betray, but Mustang's rejection was still too raw in his bruised heart. "And don't mention the possibility of it either. Shit. If the wrong people heard that, both he and I could end up in big fucking trouble," he ordered, meeting both sets of surprised eyes with a hard stare.

He could feel Winry's eyes on him, but he didn't have any words for her. He couldn't ask her how she was taking his interest in Mustang. Even though he knew he was being a coward, he couldn't meet her gaze.

Stomping over to the other side of the room, he slammed his new books into his luggage harder than necessary. Sinking to the floor in a huff, he began to look under the bed for his dress shoes and to hide his face. The feelings of frustration and hurt still clung to his chest from the whole situation, threatening to spill tears from his eyes.

"Then what about Russell?!" Al whispered his accusatory concern. "Brother, it isn't right to lead him on like that!"

"Who the hell said anything about leading him on?" For the second time, Ed stopped searching for items to throw at them. Resting his arm on the bed between them, he sat facing them from the floorboards. "I like him, alright?" Ed beseeched them for understanding. "He knows there's someone else I've got feeling for, and he said he doesn't care. I even told him about Noah."

"Who's Noah?" Winry asked in confusion, snapping out of her uncharacteristic silence at the same time that Al replied.

"Really?" his younger brother sounded surprised.

"Yeah," Ed answered in a huff while he held up his right dress shoe, "so back the fuck off and help me find my left shoe."

* * *

The whoop of the train announced last call, breaking the calm of the night. Steam filled the freezing station with white mist into the dark starless sky. Late night passengers were boarding, and beneath the cavernous domed ceiling, the vast wooden platform emptied as the last train of the day readied for departure.

Pulling Ed in firmly, Al gripped his body in a blindingly tight hug. Even as he gasped for breath, Ed smiled. He couldn't help it; that hug was further proof that his brother's physical recovery was coming along.

"Ok, ok," Ed laughed.

"Take care, Brother," he told Ed as he released his hold.

"If you get lonely, Al, you can always visit Gracia, Elicia, or these two," Ed gestured to the Tringhams with an indulgent smile. "Or maybe you could get yourself a cat…"

"Really?!" Al squeaked with his hands clasped in front of his chest, eyes bright, and smile huge.

Everyone laughed. Ed nodded his consent, smiling his truly happy smile while ruffling Al's hair. Everything that he and Al had been through, every lost friend, every heart wrenching tragedy, every pain suffered was worth the look of joy in Al's face at this moment.

"Thanks, Brother!" Al answered, hugging him quickly, then sobered, pulling back. "But it's you being alone again that worries me," Al confided seriously, rubbing his left palm with his right thumb, a new nervous tell he'd picked up since returning to the flesh.

"I'll be alright, Al. I've got Mustang if I get desperate enough," he joked airily. Everyone laughed, but Al and Winry glanced at each other apprehensively, making Ed's stomach clench. Maybe he shouldn't have told them about the bastard before he left.

"Don't forget to oil your automail," Winry ordered harshly, but pulled him into a similarly breakneck embrace. "It's Northern Grade, but… you better take care of it. And come see me more often than once every couple of years, would ya?"

Ed laughed along with the group. They all knew why he hadn't been home, but yet there was a weightiness to her request. He'd have to make it up to them all for his time away, and with her and Granny heading back to Resembool tomorrow, he'd have to go out of his way to do it. But he would; they all deserved it.

"Have a good trip," Fletcher added patting Ed's arm as Winry let him go. The two alchemists gripped each other's forearms in farewell before stepping back. Both little brothers and Ed's oldest friend/younger sister discretely retreated another couple of feet to give the new couple space for a private goodbye.

On the lonely platform, with the cold night air brushing his face, Russell walked up to his new… boyfriend? No, it was too soon for labels, but they were definitely dating. Ed felt nervous. He had never gone out with a guy before, and he wasn't sure what would be different from seeing a woman, especially one in this world, but he would try his best.

"Edward, I want you to know, it's ok to be anxious. I'm nervous, too," Russell confided with a small grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, "but we'll figure it out."

It was so surprising to have his thoughts echoed in Russell's sentiments that Ed laughed a low chuckle.

"Yeah," he said, taking up Russell's right hand in his left gloved human one. "We'll figure it out."

Ed's breath hitched as Russell stepped into his personal space. He could feel the taller man's body-heat radiating him with promised warmth. Russell's free hand stretched out slowly and wound around his lower back, tingling along his skin through the layers of fabric separating them.

Watching Russell's sparkling eyes as pale blond hair reveled an affectionate glance, Ed was captivated. Gloved automail slid up the lean arm holding him. He tilted his head as the taller alchemist leaned in. Their lips inching closer to each other; violet-grey and gold eyes closed with warm damp breath caressing each other's face.

"Get a move on, Fullmetal," Mustang called out from his seat in their train car to the group still on the platform. An unaccounted for irritation suffused the General's stiff features as he came to the window and looked down at the sight below him. "Regardless of your celebrity status, the train isn't going to wait for you."

"Uh…" Ed exhaled in irritation then turned, shouting, "Shut the fuck up, you bastard. I'm coming," over his shoulder, unintentionally meeting his CO's harsh eye when he did. And if Ed had harbored any hope that it wouldn't be an awkward trip, the look in Mustang's stony façade confirmed that it would be much worse. Cringing, Ed turned back to Russell.

"Sorry, guess I gotta go," Ed mumbled an apology. He leaned in and gave Russell a sweet, swift peck on the lips before releasing the taller alchemist's outstretched arm and laced fingers, pulling away. He grabbed his baggage by his feet and jumped onto the groaning train, waving goodbye with his patented fake grin plastered on his face as the train began to pull out of the station.

"See you in two weeks, Brother!" Al called after him while the rest of the blonds shouted their farewells.

'Yeah, if I fucking last that long,' Ed thought doubtfully.

 

* * *

 

***Pomp and Circumstance***

North City, Amestris, March 1920

The bundled up North City crowd cheered as he finished the short speech Breda had written for him. Ed waved then left the stage, glad to have this bullshit almost over with. Thankfully, the Führer had promised him his return to Central would be the last of these types of events 'held in his honor.' It was a relief. Just one more to go.

Mustang had been assigned to attend these fucking things, too, and Ed had been trying his damnedest not to pay any attention to his CO, especially since recent events had transpired. Ed couldn't decide which one was worse: their little talk about military rules, holding Mustang on his birthday, or Mustang catching him in Russell's arms a few days later. They were all so embarrassing.

Ed had hoped to move past it. He'd been fine flirting with those women and Russell on his birthday, but when he had shared a birthday kiss and that pitiful one on the platform with the elder Tringham it had shown him that he was not going to get over Mustang so easily.

He had also hoped he could try to be Mustang's friend instead, but after the bastard had tried to give him the perfect, most thoughtful gift, it just hurt too much to be in the same room as him. Also, being fucking glared at by his CO while being held by another man definitely didn't say he and Mustang were in the 'friend zone' either.

Instead, they had been avoiding each other unless they absolutely had to converse and only about official business. It broke Ed's heart a little every time.

Not only had it been obligatory for Ed to see the bastard every day of the week in the office, but these damn ceremonies meant the two of them had been forced to travel by train together for nearly two weeks.

Again, they had avoided each other, either sitting in separate compartments of their military car or by burying themselves in their books or paperwork, but it was now thankfully almost over. They had been asked to speak in each of Amestris' five major cities: East, South, West, North, and Central City. (And who the hell had named these cities anyways? Really unoriginal, if you asked Ed.)

He was grateful to leave the cold behind, where his automail ports ached, for the warmer capitol city, having traveled the country in a clockwise fashion. They'd headed to traditionally colder territory, sure, but those stops had been scheduled for later in the tour, as the weather improved. He wondered who he should thank for the reprieve from the aching pain, even with his Northern automail. Now, they were almost done and would be returning home to Central the day after tomorrow for their final stop.

During these ordeals, Mustang had been dressed to impress, and Ed couldn't help but notice. The clean lines of his shaven face, his dark twinkling eye and his sensual mouth all captured Ed's attention. It tore at him to see the man he wanted and couldn't have. It was alright, though; he had a new relationship starting back in Central with someone who did want him, but it still hurt to see Mustang flirting with the ladies and the few guys that fawned all over the Flame Alchemist.

Actually, Ed had been fighting off his own fan club. After his admission on national radio that he wasn't dating anyone before agreeing to see Russell, he had spent what little time he wasn't learning how the office ran from Hawkeye or planning this little trip with the team on answering fan mail with Breda.

One short day after the press conference, bales of fan mail had been delivered to his desk. The whole team had been recruited to sort through them, to Ed's utter embarrassment. Of course the guys had ribbed him for the mushy letters and marriage proposals he had received. That is, except for Havoc who cried and wined that it was all 'not fair.' It astounded Ed that anyone who knew him would want to be with him, like Russell, much less a bunch of strangers. The whole thing was surreal.

Ed was also baffled to receive hopeful pleas to become an Alchemy Master from students wishing to become his apprentice. He knew his reputation proceeded him, but… Ed, a Master? Someone responsible for training the next generation of alchemists? Besides not having practiced alchemy for the past 4 years, save for that shit with the invasion and getting back home to Amestris, and the fact that he was barely into his twenties, it was standard military policy that no active duty State Alchemist could apprentice another alchemist. Thank goodness those standard replies were easy to write.

Although, it was nice to get a few letters from the people he did know, people he had helped in the past. He got a touching letter from Rose Thomas in Lior, catching him up on all that he had missed in the east Amestrian town, how Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong had helped to alchemically rebuild it after the armed uprising and portal induced earthquakes, as well as sending him a picture of her and her young son.

Halling, the foreman of the Youswell mine, had sent him a kind missive about the progress they had made in his absence, hoping that Ed would come by to see them soon for a drink, and how proud the whole town was of him.

The most moving by far had been from the taciturn Sig Curtis. He had sent his well wishes, glad that Ed and Al had come home, letting them both know they were always welcome, even if Teacher had passed away. Ed had been warmed by these letters, and had answered them personally, not with the prefabricated responses Breda had come up with.

The rotund, red headed officer had been right, though. They had received quite a few letters from the 'crazies,' and had handed those over to Intelligence. Brigadier General Fairchild had Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong investigate those senders. Mostly they had been harmless, but they had still been disturbing.

Ed had received some really bizarre 'presents' in his mail. One woman had sent him a few of her eyelashes while another had sent him her dirty panties. One man had sent Ed a cutout photo from the newspaper with his own picture glued next to Ed's with hearts drawn all around their faces.

It creeped Ed out just thinking about all the 'fun gifts' he had gotten in just the week since his return. Of course his officemates had thought the whole thing was fucking hilarious. Well, except for Hawkeye; she just looked at him with pity, which might have been worse.

But that was ok. He was going home to his brother and his house in two days. He had underestimated the power of having a home. Or maybe he had always known the draw of having one when he was younger, and had been right to burn it down - to keep himself from turning back before restoring his brother's body.

Either way, he was glad to have a home now, a place he would be only too happy to relax and feel comfortable in, blocking out the world around him. Since Russell and Fletcher had moved out the day after he had left town, he was sure to feel at ease, reveling in his home and personal office space among his books and notes. According to his call with Al last week, he would even have new furniture and a new cat to acquaint himself with when he got home.

After the North City ceremony, he and Mustang were driven back to their hotel in silence. They each watched the view from their respective windows. Their female driver fidgeted uncomfortably until Mustang made pleasant conversation with the Second Lieutenant. Ed let their conversation become a steady background noise as they traveled through the winter covered city.

Ed couldn't wait to change out of his uniform. He had worn Amestrian Blues for the pageantries and wanted out of them as soon as possible, especially the fucking cavalry skirt. Who the hell had decided that everyone should wear a long, front and back slit skirt on top of their baggy uniform pants anyways?

As they pulled up to the hotel, Ed looked it over. The cream colored building was actually quite welcoming, with a restaurant and bar in the main building surrounded by lots of wiry hedges covered in mounds of snow.

Disembarking, Ed walked back to his room relieved. In the end, this whole thing was his fault for opening his big damn mouth. He had agreed to the Führer's request that he attend some ceremonies in his honor. Well, he had learned his lesson, and he would never blindly agree to anything again, no matter who asked.

He unlocked his hotel door and entered. Immediately, he saw himself in the ornate mirror that stood across the room. He barely recognized himself. Piss yellow hair and eyes popped out sharply against his Amestrian Blues and braided yellow cords. It made him even more self-conscious than the stiff material of his uniform.

Not only was he half a man with two metal limbs, but he was the last Xerxian looking man alive. His brother had thankfully taken enough after their mother that he could pass as full Amestrian.

He crossed the room quickly to his suitcase, drawing out his spare clothing: boxers, white button-up shirt and brown slacks. They helped him feel less on display, less inhuman. It was funny. In Germany, he had worn them to blend in, to fade into the muted colors of that world, but now these clothes made him feel more human, more himself. Ironic, really, that clothes he'd used as a mask to hide now made him feel like himself, but in the end, they served the same purpose. They let him attract less attention.

In his younger years he had courted attention. His candy apple red jacket with the huge Flamel Crest on the back was evidence of that. He had traipsed around Amestris in that coat, swinging his automail around, and performing alchemy perfunctorily.

However, when he had been transported to German, he'd had to rethink every action he took just to stay alive and unseen. That shock to his system had branded his soul; not only had his speech pattern changed, with a great help from Kai, but also how he handled himself.

How he was able to contain his agitation with the week-long General's Council interrogation or his petrification at Havoc's joke that he couldn't get a guy's number on his birthday were great examples. Ed was beginning to see the repercussions of his German exile in his everyday life, and he absently wondered how they would manifest in the future as he readjusted to Amestrian culture.

Before distractedly taking his clean clothes to the washroom, he picked up the room service menu. Ed called the front desk, reaching an overly helpful coy male voice. He ordered the basic chicken, mixed vegetables, and bread roll meal along with an empty glass.

"I can bring it up to you myself if you would like, Mr. Fullmetal," the deep voice cooed.

"That's alright," Ed rolled his eyes but replied kindly. "I wouldn't want to put you out."

"Not at all," he replied, not letting it go. "Can I bring you anything else? Anything at all."

"Dinner's fine and the empty tumbler. Thanks," Ed replied before hanging up. He had seen the liquid amber encased in glass hidden within his things when he got his clothes out, and thought it sounded like a good idea.

After Ed had responded to Halling's note, the older man had called him at home. Ed had found more common ground with the foreman/innkeeper/current Mayor; they both enjoyed debating the finer nuances of whiskey. Ed had described the full bodied tastes of German liquor to the man who was well versed in a variety of alcohol. When the celebratory tour had brought Ed to East City, Halling had come barring a welcome home gift, an aged Creatan whiskey, and Ed couldn't wait to taste it.

Of course, he had also visited with Sig Curtis, who had come to South City to see him. Ed had worked it out with the team to give him a day before taking off for West City. It had been a somber greeting, but he had felt how much his teacher's sedate husband cared about him. They had visited Teacher's grave and had a sober dinner with Mason, the young man from Ed's childhood who helped in the butcher shop, before Ed had headed back to meet up with the tour. He had left early the next morning, but the sight of Teacher's resting place had still been etched in his mind. Smooth stone embedded upon the hillside kept all his thoughts on the woman who had raised him after his mother had passed away, the woman who had taught him alchemy, and how much he missed her.

In his room tonight, he showered and changed, taking the time to oil his automail before his food arrived. The pain in his hips and lower back was easing now that he had Winry's cutting edge designs fit to his current height. At the knock on the door, Ed rose to retrieve his dinner.

'Fucking finally,' he thought as he crossed the room. 'I'm starving.'

Ed opened the door to a seductively attractive mocha skinned man who held a tray.

"Hello there, Mr. Fullmetal. I have something for you. Where would you like me to put it?" He said in the same velvet voice that Ed had heard on the phone. Ed inwardly groaned, realizing that the man wanted to be invited in for more than a delivery, judging by his body language and his blatantly obvious innuendo.

"Unfortunately, I have some work to do, so I'll take the tray. Thanks for bringing my food," Ed took the platter without moving from his position, in affect blocking the room's entrance. The good-looking man pouted, and it reminded Ed of Betty in Alchemic Affairs. Was pouting supposed to be attractive in a partner? Ed tossed his thanks over his shoulder as he closed the door on the interloper, and turned to eat at the desk.

After devouring his meal, he noticed that the room service tray held two glasses instead of just the one he had requested. Weird. Considering the extra tumbler, he then realized who it had been intended for, and Ed rolled his eyes. He missed the days he had been oblivious to these games. Well, whatever. He only needed one glass anyways.

He settled himself in for some intensive study time; he really did have work to do. He'd have to wait until he was done to try Halling's gift; he couldn't work with a fuzzy mind. His assessment was going to be in about a week for his State Alchemist Certification. He had spent the first of his allotted four weeks learning the office's crazy filing system and secret codes. Then he'd had to do this stupid ass 'Welcome Home and Gratitude' tour for the past week and a half with yet another couple days back to Central for their last stop.

It took 2-3 days between their destinations, and the seats weren't all that comfortable. Well, they hadn't been until Ed added a little extra cushioning to their assigned car. Now both men were much more content, although they were still riding in awkward silence most of the time. He had gotten a lot of reading done avoiding Mustang, but he hoped he'd be ready in time for what he was planning for his assessment.

-8-

Roy finished his meal and after dinner bourbon at the hotel's restaurant and bar alone. Not that the waitress hadn't been flirting with him, but he couldn't focus on her. His attention was on other things. In fact, he had been ruminating on trying to figure out what to do about Fullmetal.

They had both been distant, for obvious reasons, over the past two and a half weeks. However, the rest of the office had begun to notice the uncomfortable air that had fallen, and then there was that unfortunate display at the train station the night they had left on this tour. Roy was still unsure which portion he was unhappier with: Fullmetal in the elder Tringham's arms or his own response to the sight.

At first, Roy had thought it was just his imagination, but as Fullmetal's first week back progressed, the more he and his Colonel avoided one another, the more ill at ease the entire office had become. Whenever Roy had been in the outer office, the two of them had avoided casual conversation. In contrast, over the years they had been more contentious. Usually the blond had swaggered in to make a report, they had intentionally pressed each other's buttons, and then Roy would send the youth out on another mission.

They had rarely been friendly, but there had been a few occasions in Fullmetal's youth when they had clearly understood one another. Now that they were intentionally avoiding each other, Roy wondered how they could ever work together again.

During their shared dreams, their relationship had changed. Besides the first surreal dream, nothing had been that different. Fullmetal had banged open Roy's inner office door, given updated reports, and then left. But during the last few visions, the young man had confided in him more, and the two of them had grown closer; they had been more honest with one another. He just wished he knew what had stopped their nocturnal discussions.

Roy liked to think that he had helped Fullmetal in a meaningful way on a number of occasions during these dreams, namely when the vulnerable spitfire had come to him with an almost broken spirit. Roy had told him to keep moving forward, to go after what he really wanted, and to reach out for who he really wanted.

He'd told Fullmetal that, but just when they had been reunited, he'd had to tell the alluring blond he wanted that they couldn't be together, that those amber eyes should look on someone else, that those plump lips should kiss someone else. And then Roy had had to see just that, Fullmetal in someone else's arms not a week later.

Roy breathed out heavily as he stood up from the bar to head back to their adjoining rooms.

He felt guilty for his role in this mess, but it couldn't be helped. Without overstating things, people's lives depended on him reaching the Führership. As much as he wanted the gold and silver hued Fullmetal, he couldn't have the vibrant man. Not now, and it was selfish of Roy to ask him to wait until the day came when he could.

It had been sweet to hear Fullmetal say they would just have to wait until he was released from his army contract. At the thought of it, Roy had been filled with hope, but he had been too afraid to let himself have it. He had ruined his chance, telling the man he cared for the most to see anyone other than himself.

Who does that? Oh, yes; that's right. Self-destructive assholes, obviously. Hughes would have taken his glasses off, wiped them on his shirt, glanced through them as he held them midair, and then nonchalantly told him what a complete fool he was being.

Well, there was nothing Roy could do about what had been said. He could only keep moving forward. Now all he had to do was find a way to work with Fullmetal without having the whole office notice any more than they had that anything was amiss. It helped that the two alchemists had been away for almost two weeks, but they were due back Friday, just a few short days away.

Something had to give. They still had to work together. He also needed Fullmetal's help reaching his goal and to deal with Hakuro. Roy simply felt selfish asking.

The General exhaled again as he meandered through the bland corridors back to his room. He absently followed his reflection in the drawn windows as he passed down the enclosed hotel hallway. From this angle, his image was unmarred by the large black eye patch that took up over a third of his face.

The only evidence of his nearly fatal wound in his reflected profile was the small black string drawn across his forehead. Thankfully, most of it was hidden in his artistically messed hair. Roy watched his own movements as he traveled down the aisle until he came to an open window where inside he spied the man who was beginning to occupy more and more of his mind.

Sitting sideways at the hotel desk, Fullmetal sat with his automail elbow upon the tabletop and his head rested on his metal fist. White shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing toned and crafted contrasting forearms. His long hair was pleated in a long braid falling over his right shoulder nearly to his mid-abdomen where his brown slacks fell loosely bunched high on his ankles. His bare feet were crossed on the desk's corner with his flesh foot resting over his metal one. The younger man was evidently concentrating, reading away at the thick tome he held in his free hand.

Roy lightly smirked at the sight. It was hard to look away. The warm light from the lamp behind Fullmetal bathed his features. The alluring young man, a conglomerate of tan skin, golden hair, amber eyes, and silver automail, was haloed in a convivial glow.

Fullmetal frowned then looked up, obviously surprised to catch Roy in the act of watching him through the glass. The curious blond alchemist got up, came to the door, and opened it.

Roy couldn't escape now. He'd been seen.

Shit.

-8-

"Can I help you, General?" Ed asked interestedly, feeling a nervous energy beginning to thrum through his body. What was his CO doing here, and why had the tousled brunet been staring at him? Mustang looked caught off guard, and it was amusing, but weird, too.

"Just walking by," Mustang stated flatly, obviously covering his embarrassment. "Doing a bit of light reading?" He asked lamely, trying to make a joke of the thick text Ed had been holding. He seemed to be lost for what else to say.

"Yeah," Ed confirmed sarcastically while his stomach churned nervously. Not sure what to do with his hands, he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb trying to look relaxed. "I've got my assessment coming up and, with all these stupid ass ceremonies, I haven't had the chance to do much research."

"I see," Mustang acknowledged. "I'm sure you'll do fine. Like I said before, it's more of a formality, as it's your last one."

"Humph," Ed mumbled noncommittally. Like Al, he didn't like getting preferential treatment. He'd also never failed an assessment before, and he wasn't about to start now. Then Ed noticed the General still standing there in the pregnant silence that had fallen between them. "Anything else?" he asked unsure.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about," Mustang confessed, "but it can wait." He added like he hoped Ed would give him the out. "I don't want to keep you from whatever you were reading. You looked deep in thought."

"Well, I was, but I had this weird feeling I was being watched," Ed smirked hoping to break up their now commonplace awkwardness by joking.

It was Mustang's turn to make a noncommittal noise, as if he was still embarrassed at being caught staring through the window.

"Naw, s'fine. Come on in," Ed offered, stepping back into the room. "I could use a break. If I get too fixated, I'll get stuck and defeatist."

-8-

Roy watched a retreating gilded braid swaying down a strong back before he entered, entrancing him, drawing him in. The door closed slowly behind him as if asking him if this was a good idea.

Fullmetal grabbed a glass and a curious spare in his metal hand from the room service tray before he pulled a caramel colored bottle from his bag.

-8-

"Drink?" Ed asked, grinning a strained but friendly smile, needing to calm his own nerves. Here was the tempting man he wanted, in his room, not a few feet away, and all Ed could do was try to not embarrass himself; he was so nervous. What was he supposed to do? He was dating Russell now, even if they hadn't said they were exclusive. But being so close to Mustang made his stomach do flips, not that the bastard would want him or anything.

-8-

"What do you have?" Mustang inquired as he stood awkwardly, not knowing where to sit or even if he should. Although, he was interested to see what Fullmetal thought of as good enough to carry with him.

"Creatan whiskey," the blond replied raising the bottle, "aged 20 years."

"I'm impressed," Roy honestly complemented.

"Yeah, well, I learned a few things while I was away," Fullmetal smirked playfully over his shoulder. "How do you want it? Single, double, neat, on the rocks?"

"Single neat will be fine," Roy raised an eyebrow as he replied. Seemed the young man had learned a thing or two about drinking; he wondered what else Fullmetal had learned.

"Good because I don't have any ice," Fullmetal said as he handed the General a glass tumbler with a finger's width full of amber liquid, taking the same for himself.

Roy accepted his own, smelling the savory flavor hinted with honey and oak. He watched the liquid swirl in his glass as the room fell silent. The color reminded him of a certain pair of caramel eyes.

-8-

"So," Ed prompted anxiously. He couldn't help but feel uncoordinated with Mustang so close. Was his CO gonna sit? Ed was unsure what the older man wanted to discuss, and they both stood there uneasily.

Ed touched the desk chair, considering sitting where he had been a few minutes ago. Then he realized that would leave the attractive General to sit on the mattress. Unbidden, he imagined Mustang laying back, sensually displayed on his bed, and had to suppress the sudden aching warmth in his stomach at the thought.

Maybe Ed should sit there instead. Mustang was here to talk, nothing more. Besides, Ed was going to be seeing Russell in a few days; he could wait until then, damn it. He chastised himself, sighing as he took a seat on the bed's edge and indicated for the General to take the chair he had occupied earlier.

"What did you want to talk about?" Ed took a sip, trying to center himself.

-8-

"As you know, we will be returning to Central soon," Roy began, wondering how to broach the subject of their estranged relationship.

Fullmetal nodded, but he did not comment.

"And we will be working in concert to figure out what Hakuro's next move will be."

Again, Fullmetal nodded, waiting for Roy's point.

"So we will be spending more time together." Roy thought about the difficulty of that with the way they had been interacting.

-8-

Ed pursed his lips and his eyebrows kitted together at Mustang's observation.

'Ah, so that's what he wants to talk about,' Ed thought as he considered the uncomfortable atmosphere that had fallen between them ever since they realized they couldn't be together. The uneasiness had only gotten worse, especially after the bastard had seen him and Russell on the platform, but really, how were they supposed to ignore this?

-8-

"Exactly my point," Roy said in response to the younger man's frown. "We need to be able to work together, that is if you even want to stay in my unit when the year is up," Roy said, afraid that the man across from him would indeed leave. Roy both wanted Fullmetal to be close and wanted to be able to move forward with him if they could salvage what he himself had thrown away. Although, option two was less likely now that Fullmetal was seeing Russell Tringham.

Why Russell Tringham of all people?!

Roy was unsure if it would even be fair to ask Fullmetal to stay. The thought of the young Colonel not being in his chain of command had a certain appeal. If they were separated like that, then maybe they could still be together at a later date. Roy thought about it optimistically for a moment, but realized that even then, he would be too busy working on becoming Führer to get involved in a serious relationship. He couldn't afford to get distracted now or later. Oh, and the current Führer had nullified any attempt to transfer Fullmetal to a different department, so there was that, too.

"Do you want me to leave when the time comes?" the blond asked, taking another sip, almost hiding his hurt.

"No, Fullmetal. I don't," Roy confessed, wanting to reach out and reassure the man in front of him, but afraid it would send the wrong message.

"Well then, I'll do what I can to help you," Fullmetal promised. "I know the country will be better off with you at the top than that jackass, Hakuro. That's for damn sure."

"You think so?" Roy asked reflexively without thinking about it. What was it about them being alone together that opened their tight lips?

"Hell yeah, Mustang," his Colonel confirmed ardently before brushing his bangs back with a metal hand. "Look, I know things between us have been… off…"

"Off…" Roy repeated in overstated sarcasm.

"Yeah, well, whatever you want to call it, Bastard," Fullmetal rejoined with a little more of their familiar banter, "but you and I both know that you being Führer is what's best for the country, and I'll do whatever I can to push you to the top."

Roy looked at the serious young alchemist across from him. In that moment, he remembered another man making him the same promise. And Maes had died doing just that.

"Fullmetal, this'll be dangerous," Roy warned low and regretfully.

"Just who do you think I am, Bastard?" Fullmetal smirked, tilting his head to playfully look at Roy. "I know the risks and the dangers. That's never stopped me before," he smiled at the concerned look on his CO's face. "Besides, what else am I going to do?" Fullmetal asked him earnestly. "Go herd sheep in Resembol?"

Roy chuckled at that, and Fullmetal smiled an unguarded grin.

"In for one cenz, in for it all," his young ally clinked their glasses together in a toast.

"To the future," Roy proposed instead.

"To moving forward," Fullmetal countered, grinning a meaningful look at him.

Slowly Roy flashed a genuine smile. Yes, they had finally found common ground again.

"To keep moving forward."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I was a day late posting, I decided to post these two sections as one chapter since "Packing" was kinda short (just over 1700 words). Hope you enjoy this chapter (these chapters put into one?)!


	35. Chapter 35

***Might Prove Useful***

Central, Amestris, February 1920

 

“And so, it is with great pleasure that we welcome home our ‘Hero of the People,’ Colonel Edward Elric!” The Chairman exclaimed from the stage full of politicians and military brass. Since his height had required that he lean down over the microphone to make the announcement, his wire rimmed glasses nearly slid off his long, straight nose. He pushed them back up and stepped to the side of the platform. The Chairman brushed his greying brown hair behind large ears as he joined his fellow assemblymen, all dressed presentably in grey or brown three-piece wool suits.

The crowd went wild at his well delivered introduction. Boisterous music played at his cue and entwined with the masses' excitement. Green Amestrian flags waved in children’s hands as they sat on their parents’ shoulders to get a glimpse of the man who had single handedly concluded a cold war with an unknown enemy.

Watching the over the top display left a bitter taste in his thin lipped mouth. Yes, Mr. Elric deserved praise for his work in Germany to bring about the end of that threat, but this was too much. The Chairman had both read the top secret briefing from the General's Council and heard Mr. Elric’s first-hand account during his debriefing, but wasn't the young man's promotion and press conference enough? Did he really need a national publicity tour?

It was preposterous that the flamboyant youth taking his place in front of the microphone had matured since his early career antics. Major General William Hakuro had complained enough during their card nights at the club about the brash child his sense of honor had forced him to nominate for the State Alchemist's Exam almost a decade ago. It was merely a rude twist of fate that the child who had somehow been responsible for saving William on that train had also ended up passing the prestigious exam.

For years, The Chairman had heard William complain that 'The Hero of the People' was nothing more than a spoiled brat who was more a vehicle for the upstart Mustang than a real national treasure. ‘After all,’ he would argue, ‘who would send a child into the field on dangerous missions?’ The Chairman had noticed William’s nuanced frustration under his anger as he asserted _many_ times over drinks that both Mustang and Elric must be trading sexual favors for superior treatment.

Of course, The Chairman hadn't believed that complaint, but Mustang's quick advancement made it a possibility for the older of the two officers in William's chain of command. He doubted a child would barter sex for preferential treatment; however, The Chairman had not suspected that Bradley had been experimenting on people either, so he guessed anything was possible.

Either way, this farce of a 'Welcome Home and Thank You' tour was a waste. Cheers rose from the gathered citizens, and the Chairman gritted his teeth behind his tolerant public smile. There were real threats to Amestris that the people should be concerned with rather than thinking they were now safe. The cold war may be over, but there was still an arms race to watch with a cautious eye.

Watching a green ocean of flags wave, The Chairman bit the inside of his cheek to keep from outwardly snorting. Amestris was not an isolated island, and other nations had heard of the devastation wrought on Central in a matter of hours. They would not take a threat like that lying down, nor should they. They, too, would want to fortify themselves against a foe powerful enough to cripple a dominant Central for months.

The Chairman knew this, just as any person of average intelligence would know it, if they ever stopped applauding Mr. Elric’s captivating speech. The only difference was that The Chairman was playing the long game while his peers were still playing with day to day, week to week, month to month matters. Even those high ranking men and women in the military were unbelievably short sighted. The country didn’t stop competing, didn’t stop developing just because one man came home.

Of course, Mr. Elric should be celebrated for the hero he was, but the country should not be deluded enough to believe that all their fears were assuaged because of the actions of one man. Creta was trying to create flying machines that could combat the German ships, or ones just like them, though reports showed they were still unable to work out the mechanics of flight adequately enough. Aerugo was developing armor for their soldiers to mimic those of The Invaders. Even Drachma, as cold as it was up north, was working to implement antiaircraft weapons.

It was no far stretch of the imagination that the Xingese were preparing as well. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise The Chairman to find that the ambassador, Prince Ling Yao, was here to gather intelligence as a way to ingratiate himself with his bloodthirsty brother, the emperor.

And who’s to say that Amestris’ enemies didn’t plan to use these new ‘defenses’ against her? The Chairman was disturbed that the nation was not afraid. However, he was glad that the Amestrian Research & Development department was not slacking in their zeal to understand the discarded German technology left behind after the assault. He found most of their briefs to be educational, and frankly he was glad that these scientists were on Amestris’ side.

Looking over the beaming military brass on the stage, The Chairman couldn’t help but think how far they had fallen. His country had always been a strong military power ever since its founding, that is, until Bradley fell. Now it was in the middle of a reformation, albeit a slow and calm one, but one nonetheless. The Civilian Assembly had only been revived nearly 5 years ago, and while the military had handed over legislative power, it still retained control over the rest of the state. Nevertheless, this governmental change coupled with the invasion may smell like blood in the water to foreign nations.

Ties with Amestris’ neighbors had always been frayed, if not downright antagonistic. Previous Führers had made no effort to befriend or even be civil to the nations that surrounded their state. In fact, there were still border skirmishes along most, if not every, boundary.

Their only friend was the desert. The sandy wasteland to the east was so wide, ranging between Amestris and Xing, it took a month to cross. It would slow any army, regardless if it came from the east or if it was circling through the desert looking for an undefended frontier to attack.

Amestris and her leaders could not let themselves become complacent. The Chairman knew he needed to find more allies within the country to keep it safe from those dangers, especially after the young blond alchemist giving a humble speech now had given the country a temporary reprieve.

Looking around the dais, The Chairman considered those willing to ride Mr. Elric’s coattails. The aging and soft Führer Grumman, the young and cunning Brigadier General Mustang, a spackling of other lax Generals beside him, with the top members of the Civilian Assembly standing by The Chairman on the other end.

They were all there, wearing blue uniforms or grey suits and false smiles, gaining goodwill just by sharing a stage with the charismatic and beautiful young Colonel. The Chairman would need to catalyze his allies, both civil and military, to ensure that the country stayed on guard against the remaining foreign and domestic threats.

The Chairman considered his influence within the state before and after joining the Civilian Assembly. Being a member of an old military family, he had always been an active participant in the goings on at the club and social events held by the family heads. Before he had lost so much, like most people had in The Invasion, The Chairman had joined the new governmental body as soon as it was revived when he’d heard about the atrocities Führer Bradley had committed.

Sweeping his eyes over a nearly preening Führer Grumman, The Chairman considered the contrast in leadership. Initially, he could not believe there had been no oversight to catch such blatant disregard for human lives by Bradley. Believing at first that the government was too powerful, being controlled by a Führer with no protections in place, he had then been appalled that the new Führer had given up power too readily to the Civilian Assembly five years ago. How was such a man supposed to protect them from foreign or domestic threats if he was willing to bend so easily to public pressure? And The Chairman had been right to worry.

Every man on the stage knew where The Invaders had come from, where they had gone, and why they had come in the first place. Now, however, that risk would never be reawakened thanks to Mr. Elric and his younger brother, who incidentally refused to receive any credit.

In fact, Alphonse Elric had declined to participate in any events related to The Invaders. He had simply said, ‘Brother deserves all the credit,’ for saving Central and ending the cold war in Amestris. The nineteen-year-old Elric even refused to be thanked, stating, ‘I only want to do my best for the people of Amestris,’ which was fine by The Chairman. It was one less wild card to worry about.

The man of the hour finished his brief speech to another round of cheers before he waved his way off the stage, bringing The Chairman back to himself. He had heard about the elder Elric since his debut on the national stage at age 12 and was intrigued. He was also slightly bewildered that a preteen had saved William's hide, applied to and passed the State Alchemist’s Exam, in addition to becoming a national hero at such a young age.

The Chairman had wondered at the time whether the Führer had lost his mind allowing such a thing in the first place, but as stories of the young man’s deeds spread, The Chairman questioned more his drinking partner William's judgment. He deduced that the Major General may have assessed the child with embarrassment, envy, and disbelief instead of a clear head, even if Mr. Elric had been as much of a handful as The Chairman’s research had implied.

Destruction and praise followed each of Mr. Elric’s mission reports The Chairman had found, not to mention the incredible success rate the teen had in the field before his so-called treason against Bradley. Of course that last bit had all been forgiven and forgotten before Mr. Elric’s rapid rise through the ranks without even being in the country.

It would be better to assess Amestris' youngest Colonel himself.

As The Chairman and the other officials moved to descend the stairs to stage right, he saw the Mr. Elric maneuvered into position at the bottom of the steps by Brigadier General Mustang. To The Chairman’s surprise, he noticed their curious exchange. Mr. Elric rolled his golden eyes then gave a slight head shake to which Brigadier General Mustang returned with a onyx look that held an unheard order. After a millisecond sigh, Mr. Elric turned to his tailcoat riders. He wore a charming smile and began to shake their hands obediently, thanking them all as they left the stage.

So, the upstart Brigadier General could handle the volatile yet charismatic Colonel? Interesting. Perhaps The Chairman’ briefings on the two alchemists needed updating. Reading between the lines, The Chairman had gleaned from his research that the young man had been difficult to control, although he had gotten the job done in a fraction of the time it would take others to do it. Also, there were reports of the two officers in front of him having an antagonistic relationship which was reiterated by Mr. Elric himself in his debriefing. The Chairman might be the only civilian to have heard those words, and only one of four assemblymen to receive a copy of that top secret report on Germany, but he would put his briefing to good use.

Hmm. It would be wise for him to investigate the pair further. They might prove useful.


	36. Chapter 36

***Assessment Day***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

"Brother has barely been home at all," the younger Elric confided in Riza, nervously rubbing his palm with his opposite thumb. "He had to go to all those ceremonies and for the past week he's basically lived at the library getting ready for this."

They were standing amongst the team and the Tringhams this morning in the sundrenched parade grounds, but the flat outdoor space was obscured by Amestrian Blues. It was covered with military personnel, even more soldiers than Riza remembered had attended Edward's assessment by combat against her then-Colonel years ago at Eastern Command.

"I'm sure he's been busy preparing," Fuery assured the younger Elric.

"So you have no idea what he is going to be showing the committee?" asked Riza surprised. It was strange to not have the brothers on the same page; usually, they were inseparable.

"No, none. Do you know?" Alphonse asked Riza and Russell. "You two spend more time with him than I do."

"Hmm," she replied considering his words. She supposed that was due to him starting at Central University a week before her General and Edward had returned. She and Alphonse looked over to Russell for any insights; perhaps Edward's new boyfriend would know what he had planned.

"Al, I rarely see him. We've only had dinner the one time since he got back, and we didn't do a lot of talking," Russell admitted shyly to a blushing younger Elric.

"I haven't any idea either," Riza added quickly to save Alphonse any more embarrassment at the implied activity his brother had been participating in. "No, whenever Edward is in the office, he works diligently on his paperwork, and when he is done, he's transfixed on his notebook, scribbling away," she commented, remembering seeing random notation, sketches, and doodles over his shoulder that she had no way to interpret. She knew enough from her father's work to never attempt to decode an alchemist's trade secrets.

"At least, it sounds like he's been hard at work, above and beyond waving to his adoring fans," commented a calm voice that barely covered the speaker's contempt.

"Major General Hakuro, sir," Riza and the team saluted the square jawed man with grey hair and a circular notch shot out of his earlobe while the non-military alchemists all nodded to him.

"At ease," the older General dismissed their respectful welcome with derision. His secretary, Gladys, was meek on his heels with her notepad and pen out. "He's been out of the game for so long; he better not embarrass me any further."

Hakuro's open dislike for Edward set Riza's teeth on edge. Ignoring the group, the Major General turned and walked away.

"Is he still like that?" Alphonse asked, sharing concerned looks with Riza.

The team murmured their confirmations as she pursed her lips into a thin line. She thought back to when she had first met the Elric brothers. A terrorist group had attempted to use the Major General in a prisoner exchange during which he had been shot in the ear, leaving that circular defacement. The Elrics had saved Hakuro's life. Actually, the brothers had also protected the General's wife and two young children, if Riza remembered correctly.

The Major General had been so grateful that he had sponsored Edward for the State Alchemist's Exam. Of course Edward had passed, but ever since then Hakuro had complained about Edward's conduct and its poor reflection on him.

That had always confused Riza, as Edward's service record was littered with commendations and words of praise from those he had helped along the way as he searched for the Philosopher's Stone. In fact, he had turned down a number of promotions throughout his career, only becoming a Lieutenant Colonel and then a Colonel because he wasn't there to contest the additional stars and bars. She never understood Hakuro's resentment for the Fullmetal Alchemist, and it worried her.

Riza made a quick sweep of the audience. From her 9 o'clock position around the edge of the assessment space, she noticed Dragon and Lotus were also in attendance. The royal siblings were sitting on a slightly raised dais almost straight across from her party, at roughly the 2 o'clock position, that afforded the pair a view of the entire arena.

Most of the other Generals on the Council, including her own, stood between the foreign dignitaries and those on the committee for today's assessment. The Xingese diplomats' platform was not as high, however, as the stage located at the 12 o'clock position of the encircled test area where Grandfather and Brigadier General Avro were observing from with the other committee members.

They sat talking amongst themselves. Brigadier General Francis Avro was a thin man in his mid-forties with wide eyes and a broad nose. His propensity to turn up the ends of his dark brown goatee and eyebrows was always subject to lunchroom jokes, which he took goodheartedly. He wore his blue military beret over his close cut dark hair. Grandfather sat indulgently on the raised platform next to Avro, as befitting the Führer of Amestris, with a warm smile for the crowd; his dress hat sat above his round gold-framed spectacles and his grey tuffs of hair.

"Führer Grumman, honored guests, ladies, and gentlemen," Brigadier General Avro's voice called her attention, carried over the masses by microphone. He nodded to the leader of Amestris and visiting dignitaries, then addressed the crowd. "Thank you for coming to the annual assessment of our State Alchemists. As required of their status, these talented specialists must be reevaluated once a year by the Office of Alchemic Affairs. Of those certified in March, we have three here in Central: The Watershed Alchemist, The Clover Alchemist, and The Fullmetal Alchemist."

Grandfather sat comfortably observing the process as Brigadier General Avro began to speak directly to the State Alchemists whom Riza noted were each in their best blue dress uniforms at the 6 o'clock position. That is, except for Edward; he was in unassuming brown trousers with a matching brown vest over a white button up shirt all under an open brown trench coat. He was sporting his customary white gloves, too.

'At least his sleeves are rolled down,' Riza thought to herself as she sighed, remembering his cuffs pushed up his arms while in the office, hard at work on his research.

"We will begin by having each of you perform a transmutation from the raw materials provided to show ingenuity in the field," he explained indicating the center of the arena. There was an ice mound leading to a small stream of water bordered by a stone basin on each side with mounds of dirt covered in trees and a variety of other vegetation across the remainder of the acre lot. "Next, you will show evidence of progress in your chosen area of alchemic study. Lastly, you will indicate future directions you wish to take your research. First, we will evaluate The Watershed Alchemist. Please step forward and begin when ready," Avro instructed.

Riza watched a man with dirty-blond hair in his thirties step forward, wearing military blues but an additional leg harness with metallic accessories inscribed with alchemic array inlays. He saluted the Führer and Avro (oh, she hoped Edward remembered to do that) before he walked towards the display set up in the center of the grounds.

He subtly brushed his hands across the inscribed arrays on his right leg and slammed his right foot down dramatically. Blue sparks erupted into a straight line, crackling as they rammed into the stream. The peaceful water rose up into a wall as the people watching gasped in awe.

Watershed then rose his arms above his head and leaned to the left, and the wall of water followed his movement. He leaned to the right, and the liquid façade obeyed. He spread his hands wide and the wall parted. The crowd watched the display with awe as Watershed then lowered his hands and the water fell to the ground in a downpour, no longer holding a shape.

Riza reminded herself to watch out for this man around her General, as Watershed could render Mustang's flames useless on a dry day, given enough water.

"Well done, Watershed," called Avro's voice over the crowd's instant cheering. "And now, what have you been working on?"

"My research on the rearrangement of water molecules has been ongoing. My arrays allow me to reorganize these molecules into any shape I desire, so my work has boundless possibilities in application.

"For instance," he said turning back to the wet ground while touching the array on his left leg. The water rose up from the dirt tainted in blue light and began to form a cloud above the arena. "I have been able to create cloud formations from which I can then," he heaved his left leg down into the ground sending another round of blue crackles, "make it rain." The alchemically created cloud began to release its water content. "My future research will be in using this skill on a larger scale to reduce droughts in rural areas that do not have access to adequate irrigation." The crowd held their breaths as Avro considered the man.

"Yes." With a nod, the Brigadier General agreed, "Watershed, that will be an excellent use of your alchemic talents. Congratulations on your progress." Cheers went up around the man and Watershed saluted Grandfather and Avro again then retreated to his start position.

"Next, Clover, please step forward and begin when ready," hailed Avro.

The crowd's excitement cooled as they waited for the chestnut haired man walking to the center of the parade grounds to start. His dark tawny-red hair reached the collar of the loosely fitting blue uniform, but his leather bound forearms that peeked out below the cuff were held tightly beneath his regalia jacket. The arrays that Riza could glimpse were scrawled into the rawhide intricately and were beautifully done.

He saluted Grandfather and Avro then proceeded to the edge of the field. Bracing his forearms, then touching the ground, blue sparks appeared again, but this time, they encircled the growing fauna. The grass grew taller, the bushes filled out more and the trees began to flower. The crowd acknowledged the changes with awed murmurs, but were not as impressed as they had been by Watershed's display.

"Good, Clover. Now please discuss and exhibit your research thus far," Avro called.

Without standing, Clover again braced his arms and then touched the ground. Blue lights danced along the dirt as the transmutation took shape. When the light cleared, the grass and shrubbery had vanished. In their place were rows of what looked like vegetables.

Riza heard Russell and Fletcher murmuring their praise, wondering in front of her at Clover's interspecies transmutation of vegetation. Well… that was as much as she understood from their complicated discussion.

"I have been working on plant growth for a while now," Clover stood and claimed, "with promising results." He pointed to the flowering tree lightly swaying in the winter wind. "My research into plant trans-species modifications have begun to pay off. These plants are edible varieties of root vegetables, as you see. Future plans revolve around expanding into fruits and other edibles so that when little food is available, transmuted varieties may be substituted."

"This is an excellent course of research, Clover. I am sure those in hard to farm areas may appreciate your findings as you progress," Avro praised. The crowd applauded, but were less enthusiastic than they had been for the first, flashier alchemist. The Clover Alchemist noticed and was slightly ruffled, embarrassed that his success had not garnered him more acclaim. He saluted the Führer and Head of Alchemic Affairs then walked to his original position.

"Now, Fullmetal, please step forward and begin when ready," Avro ordered as the Führer sat up straighter and a hush fell among the gathering. Riza was sure the large throng assembled was here to witness what they thought would be the main event. Regardless, she was interested to know what her colleague and friend had planned.

Edward stepped out into the grounds, and saluted the Führer and Avro in a sharp snap of his right arm. Riza breathed a sigh of relief at his professional address. He continued to the edge of the provided alchemic materials. With a swift clap of his hands, he threw them to the dirt and the crowd held their breath and covered their eyes as they were nearly blinded by the size of the transmutation.

When the blue light faded into white and then nothing at all, there was stunned silence. Every eye took in the intricate display in front of them. Edward had used the entire amount of material available to compose an elaborate gateway. Four metal Amestrian dragons pulled a wooded manned chariot atop a brick gate supported by five oblong stone pillars. Water bubbled through inlaid fountains cycling water at the base of each column.

Avro was stunned and Grandfather took a second to compose himself. Riza couldn't blame either of them. In all the years she had known Edward, she had seen him transmute more than a few things, but this was beyond what she had imagined.

"Fullmetal, it seems your skills have not been dulled by your absence," Avro extolled. The crowd broke out of its stupor and yelled their amazement. It took the Brigadier General a few times to get the assembly settled down again. "Please discuss your current research and future directions," Avro charged while Grandfather looked amused with the Brigadier General's faux stern exterior.

"As you said, sir," Edward spoke then frowned as his eyes began to track something, "my absence during the past five years has prevented my access to research materials, but I've been looking at the efficiency of the transmutation process. I've developed a new theoretical model," Edward explained moving away from the spot where the other alchemists had given their reports.

It seemed odd to Riza, so she tried to follow his eye line, but the other people observing the circular arena prevented her from seeing what he was watching. She did notice that her General was watching Edward's line of sight, too, and was making his way in that direction. She nudged the team, and all of them, including Alphonse and the Tringhams, began to make their way clockwise around the enclosed grounds while trying to keep an eye on Edward.

"The transmutation you have just seen," Edward continued as he moved further towards the far side of the arena, "used the same amount of energy my colleagues here have displayed," he nodded in their direction, "but with a more efficient use of that energy, thus this larger transmutation required no addition power." Riza saw Edward through the crowd as he walked further to the right side of the grounds, keeping his body facing Brigadier General Avro and the Führer. "In this way," he kept on talking, and she was sure he was stalling, "we can use less alchemic energy to accomplish the same result.

"As for future research," he continued while she, the team, and their alchemist companions began to sprint. Something was going on, and it probably wasn't good. "I think I'm going to look closer at the ways in which alchemic bonds created after a transmutation can be strengthened." Over her panting, Riza could hear him leave out that he would also find what would weaken those bonds, but it was politic of him not to voice that supposition.

"Fullmetal," Avro called trying to get his attention while those assembled started to murmur at his odd behavior.

"One second," Edward put up his right index finger indicating for the Brigadier General to wait, surprising everyone. Before anyone could say anything, he clapped his hands and slammed them into the dirt producing a clear dome around the Xingese ambassadors just as a shot sounded. It ricocheted safely off of the curved shielding above those closest to the envoys as Edward ran towards the now encapsulated delegation through the mobilizing crowd.

Riza lost sight of him as he jumped the arena's barrier one handed, clapping midair. When he landed, he must have slammed his hands to the ground again because he caught a man in a poorly fitting uniform with his next transmutation as she came around the scattering crowd. The fleeing man was clasped in a massive dirt hand.

Seconds later, Riza, Mustang's unit, and the blond alchemists were by Edward's side, ready to lend him support and search for any more would-be assassins. Brigadier General Mustang was already there, having been closer, but he looked pleased at his team's response, even if annoyed that another attempt had been made on the prince and, to Riza's surprise, with the presence of the elder Tringham.

She raised her eyebrow at the trio: her General, Edward, and the tall pale blond. She saw Edward wave off Russell's concern; 'I'm fine,' was the message, but the plant alchemist was still upset. Riza wondered at the irritation only those who knew her General well enough could see seeping out of him at the younger alchemists' interaction. She would have to dissuaded her General from showing petty grievances quickly; her friend was at fault for telling Edward not to wait for him, resulting in the hero of the hour seeing Russell Tringham to begin with. Idiot.

Führer Grumman called for calm, and after a sharp whistle into the microphone, he caught the swarm of military animation's attention.

"Well, Fullmetal, you sure do have style," Grandfather laughed through the speakers. "Brigadier General Fairchild, have your men take witness statements. Brigadier General Mustang, secure the area. Everyone else who is nonessential clear the parade grounds calmly and do not disturb the scene," he ordered putting down the amplifier.

Riza noticed the stunned expression Edward covered up as he took in the royal siblings. Actually, it seemed like he had seen a ghost when he looked the prince over. He hid it well, but she had spent 40 hours this week training him on the political aspects of his job, especially since they were hosting royalty, and knew when he thought something was off and when he was covering something up.

When the Führer arrived at the area where Mustang's team had taken point, she heard her grandfather speak to Edward as the alchemist was taking down the protective barrier.

"Thank you for your rapid response, Fullmetal. I am glad to have you around, as I am sure our visiting guests are." He emphasized with an open hand to the smiling ambassadors. "How did you know there would be an assassination attempt?" The Führer questioned while Brigadier General Fairchild and her General stood attentively next to Grandfather.

"Sir, during the assessment, all eyes were on me except for this man. He was watching Prince Ling and making his way towards the ambassador's group with an object in his hand that glinted. That's what got my attention at first, a metal sheen in a sea of faces."

"How very astute of you, Fullmetal," Brigadier General Mustang acknowledged his reasoning with a proud smirk.

"Yes, it was," Grandfather agreed, nodding. "And by the way, you passed your assessment. Congratulations on your research progress, and continue your hard work."

"Thank you, sir," Edward replied professionally with a salute. Riza was glad to see him handle the Führer with proper deference.

"Mustang, Fairchild, get this all cleaned up and report back to me by the end of the day," Grandfather instructed, waving his hand to include their general vicinity.

"Yes, sir," they confirmed together.

"Thank you for your protection, Mr. Elric," Prince Ling's interpreter conveyed the Xingese emissary's sentiments, diverting Edward's attention. Dragon looked intrigued by his savior. Riza worried that perhaps Edward hadn't hidden his earlier expression quickly enough. "His highness wishes to know if he may call you Fullmetal," the royal interpreter asked.

"Of course," Edward nodded courteously at the royal dignitary. "You may call me Fullmetal if you prefer, Your Highness," then he added, "but Ed is fine."

Riza was impressed that he spoke and deferred to the prince rather than make the mistake of addressing the interpreter, as if this wasn't his first time speaking through an intermediary. After another exchange of foreign words, the translator spoke again.

"His Highness is impressed with your keen observational skills and quick reflexes. He wishes to assert that you are as resourceful as is rumored."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Edward began looking slightly unnerved by the bald-faced flattery. He nodded once to the interpreter, but directed his responses to the royal ambassador again as more Xingese was spoken.

"Their Highnesses wish to thank you for your assistance and wish to call on you at a later time," the interpreter conveyed to him.

"It would be an honor," Edward articulated courteously, an ill-fitting trait that seemed to actually look good on him. He bowed slightly in the direction of Prince Ling and Princess May as they left.

'He really has grown up in his time away,' Riza thought as she smiled at his cool responses. She was directing the team to secure the scene, scour for clues, and take the would-be assassin into custody. As the masses were dispersing, she distinctly heard a feigned friendly voice talking with her General, Brigadier Fairchild, and the Führer.

"It should be interesting to see what that firecracker has up his sleeve next," Hakuro toned with a slimy smile. It set Riza's teeth on edge again. Nodding to Mustang's team, Hakuro walked away smirking.

"Does anyone else get the feeling that he's up to something?" Breda asked under his breath so that no one outside of their group would hear him.

Three blond alchemists nodded along with the rest of the team as Riza pursed her lips into a thin line. They would have to keep a more watchful eye on him. His genial demeanor right now was in contrast to his derision earlier, and the sudden shift rang alarm bells in her mind.

Breda was right. The Major General was up to something, and it would behoove the team to figure it out before the man did something to Edward she was sure they would all regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another Riza POV chapter =) Love her no-nonsense perspective. And now we can get more Ling, too, although not right away... Almost all the players are on the board, and I am so looking forward to seeing everything else that is coming! **squeaks**


	37. Chapter 37

***Bishop***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

Returning from Lieutenant Gardner's office, Ed was oddly excited this bright Tuesday morning. He'd been suckered into meeting with most of the Brass, if not officially, then in passing for the better part of the last couple weeks. These 'impromptu' meetings all had the same hallmarks of the official ones, so it was safe to assume that they all had the same fucking goal: Ed transferring under a new dipshit commander that wanted to use him for their own ends.

Fucking idiots.

Ed rolled his eyes as he walked the maze of hallways connecting Gardner's fifth floor office to the back stairwell, each corridor less populated than the last. He swore, if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

Every higher-up he'd talked to promised financial benefits, research access, sexual favors, blah, blah, blah. It was a total waste of time. Ed only had to put up with this shit for one more year, then he was free.

Or was he?

Last month, before his assessment, Ed had promised to help push Mustang to the top. The country would be _way_ better off with the Bastard sitting in the big chair than any of the other self-serving assholes in the Brass, but Ed doubted that even his manipulative and charismatic CO could make Führer in the time left on his contract.

Fuck. Ok, so more of this bullshit, then. Whatever. He'd dealt with it before Germany and had somehow avoided being court martial then; he could do it again. The only problem was that some fuckers couldn't take a hint.

Crossing into a nearly empty corridor and taking the long way back to avoid more of the Brass' ministrations, Ed considered his newest carrot. Gardner had at least dangled a project in front of him that was interesting. Actually, it was more than interesting. The head of Research and Development had asked him to look at disentangling organic and inorganic materials.

He suspected it was a guise for understanding the fused organic black shit from the gate that had adhered itself to that fucker Eckhart, the German assault team, and their metal equipment. Ed, however, saw it as the opportunity to further his own research into separating bonds.

He'd announced at his assessment that he would be looking into how to strengthening alchemic bonds, but his interests were actually in disentangling them. And he could condense his reasons into one word: Nina.

The angelic little girl haunted his dreams at least once a month, and her delicate lisp, always tainted with a dog's growl, called to him, pulling at his heart to save her. His own sense of justice, his failure to realized what her father was up to until it was too late, and his inability to save her innocent life from that gruesome end ate at him. He'd spent years reliving that night in the rain, her mutilated, chimerically altered body splattered across that alley wall with nothing he could do about it.

Well, if he couldn't save her, he'd save the next poor soul to be turned into something decidedly not human. It was only a matter of time before some fucker would think it was a great idea to try the disgusting distortion of science. Ed would save the next Nina, and Gardner's project would help him meet that goal. He just had to clear it with Brigadier General Bastard first.

Damn, that stupid title was so cumbersome. He missed the days of calling his CO 'Colonel Bastard.' It just rolled off the tongue in a way that 'Brigadier General Bastard' didn't. Whatever. Eventually, he'd be calling him 'Führer Bastard,' so, yeah, whatever. Ed chuckled to himself at his own thoughts.

He entered the last hallway connecting to the back stairway, but it wasn't as deserted as it should've been. Most of the Brass stayed in their offices or close corridors, and Ed got the feeling that it gave them a sense of dominion over their own departments and the extension of military power that it afforded them. But here, in this neglected hall connecting the power hungry with the rest of the building, stood an imposing figure.

Major General Hakuro. Fuck.

"Elric, imagine running into you here," Hakuro said unsurprised, but the shithead clearly thought he sounded it, even as he pushed himself off the wall he'd obviously been waiting against.

"Major General," Ed saluted halfheartedly; it was as close to proper military procedure as he got, but he also knew Mustang's shitty CO would keep him if he skirted the acknowledgement of rank, as much as Hakuro never called him or Mustang by their titles.

Ed moved to continue down the hallway, but the fucker decided to cut him off, standing in the middle of the corridor. Damn.

"What brings you up to the fifth floor?" Hakuro asked, holding his hands behind his back and leaning down to Ed's eye-level. Fucking tall asshole. "What with your recent track record, we could use you up here," Hakuro began to flatter.

"Lieutenant General Gardner requested a meeting," Ed offered, not wanting to explain more.

"And what did he have to discuss with the _Hero of the People_?" Hakuro's voice dripped with hidden derision at the name, but stepped forward into Ed's personal space nonetheless. "I would think your skill set would make the State Department of more interest than Research and Development or Internal Security. I never took you for one to be stuck in a lab or an office."

"Actually, my current posting suits me just fine," Ed said, using Kai's training to dodge leading questions and insinuations. No matter how boring office work was, he'd never work for Hakuro kissing diplomatic ass all day.

"Don't tell me you're satisfied filing papers and whatever else Mustang has you wasting your talents on?" He leaned in further, a few inches from Ed's face and way too fucking close. "If you transferred to the State Department, you could make connections that would have large payouts down the line. Surely even you can see the benefits of planning for your career," Hakuro enticed ineffectually.

"I already told you _, sir_ ," Ed said as he took a step back and to the side to get some breathing room. "I'm not interested in transferring to another department, and I was informed that the Führer refused all other requests to have me placed with any other General," Ed replied, trying to keep his cool by repeating the prepared line. He couldn't just brush past Hakuro and return to Mustang's office. Damn office politics.

"Appreciate the offer for what it is," Hakuro said through a sneer, stepping forward into the space Ed had just cleared. "I'm trying to help you off a sinking ship." His eyes reflected a distain for even the hint of Mustang, and Ed couldn't help but see it, not with the Major General so close. "Being popular won't last, boy. The thing about the masses is…" Hakuro breathed a nauseating moist puff of air along Ed's cheek as he leaned to whisper in Ed's ear.

Ed cringed away, but caught himself. He couldn't let the fucker win in a battle of wills. No matter how disgusted he felt being breathed on by this jackass, even if he was struggling to keep his fight-or-flight response in check, he would use every honed skill Kai had taught him not to punch this fucker.

"… their opinion can change. They may be singing your praises today, but that can all disappear in the blink of an eye," Hakuro whispered as his words clung to Ed's skin, "especially if they hear about your illicit activities..."

"What are you talking about?" Ed asked confused, pulling his head away to make eye contact.

"Oh, it's fine to have a drink with your peers, Elric, but seducing your superior?" Hakuro chuckled. "I know it all; you should watch out for those you reject out of hand, no matter if they bring you your food or not. Tut-tut," he said, shaking his head. "Inviting that rogue into your hotel room for drinks and spending the night together in North City?"

Ed's breath caught in his throat. 'Reject… bring you your food… North City?' Wait, that fucking guy from room service had told Hakuro about him and Mustang having a drink? The fuck? Nothing had happened!

"That will not win you any points with the populous if the news were to reach the media, let me tell you. They do not support men who sleep their way up the chain of command," Hakuro jeered as if he had won something. "And the Council doesn't take fraternization amongst the lower ranks kindly."

"I've never slept with Mustang!" Ed swore through gritted teeth.

"That can be decided by a jury of your peers at General Court Martial, if you wish. Or," Hakuro said, sliding a finger along Ed's jaw, pulling the blond's face within an inch of the older man's, "you can transfer to my department. It wouldn't be all bad, Elric. I can make you a very rich man; after all, there is money to be made in international trade, especially with the State Department's connections, and…" the gruff voice shifted to a sensuous tone that chilled Ed like ice water down his spine, "I can _sweeten the pot_."

On those words, Ed broke out in a cold sweat. They were alone in a deserted hallway, and the fucker was whispering into his ear as if they were lovers, touching him in a way that made Ed's body physically cringe away.

No. There was no way… Hakuro brushed a hand along his side, and Ed froze in stunned disbelief. He tried to back up, only to realize too late that he was now pinned against a wall. Fuck.

"Think it over Colonel," the Major General said as he groped Ed's tense thigh with his bold fingers. "There's a great deal I can give you." He slid something that crinkled into Ed's pocket, and looking down at it, Ed saw it was an address written on a slip of paper.

"The fuck?!" Ed visibly rolled as the fucker brushed a hand along his inner hip aiming for his groin, and Ed pushed him away with his automail arm a little too hard, shoving Hakuro into the other wall of the thin corridor. "Isn't this the same thing you're accusing me and Mustang of?"

"True," the fucker smirked, "but none of the Brass cares who a Major General is fucking. They do care, however, if an upstart Brigadier General with a questionable service record and possible treasonous actions is 'taking advantage of his poor subordinates in a bid to take Führership.'"

"Are you fucking serious?!" Ed demanded, anger bleeding through his deteriorating self-control as adrenaline spiked his blood stream. He needed to get away from this fucker before he put the Major General through the wall or worse.

"That all depends on you, Elric," Hakuro said, brushing imaginary dust off his Amestrian Blues as he straightened. "How far are you willing to go to be a good soldier? Assaulting a superior officer is already grounds for court martial. Whether you're actually sleeping with Mustang or not doesn't really matter at this point," he said flatly. "Transfer or be court martialed. It's up to you."

Ed ground his teeth and clenched his fists, clinging to Kai's training like a sinking man grasping a life preserver in an ocean. This could not be happening. It couldn't.

"Consider your options well, Elric," Hakuro advised. "You can start by being at that address Friday or face court martialed Monday," Hakuro nearly sang with the certainty of his success. "I expect that tight ass of yours to satisfy me for a good, long while." He smiled a possessive grin. "Let's say 9PM, hmm?" And before Ed could say anything, Hakuro turned and sauntered back towards his stately domain, calling over his shoulder, "Dismissed."

* * *

Seething, Ed slammed the office door open, letting its momentum bang off the wall and carry it back to its original position.

That old fucker! Who the hell did he think he was?! Pulling this shit? The fuck?!

"Edward?" Hawkeye's voice caught his attention. It wasn't her calm that cut into his thoughts, but the subtle concern that laced her words.

He looked up to find the entire office on alert. Guess his less than subtle entrance had set them all on edge. Shit. He was so stupid. He shouldn't be advertising that something was wrong. Kai had taught him better than that.

He plastered on his fake smile, and tried to cover his own inept job of cooling down as he descended the three floors to Mustang's office in a swirling haze.

"Whoops! Sorry," he said around his too big smile and squinting eyes. "Guess the door got away from me," he laughed while rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side.

He knew no one believed him, but he pressed on anyways. He crossed to where there was a handle shaped indent in the wall, and kept his eyes averted from the stares targeting his back. Instead, he clapped his hands and let the alchemical array shape in his mind before he touched the wall, releasing the stored energy from his fingertips to the paint, plaster, and wood as he corrected the insult.

"Uh… how was your morning meeting with Lieutenant General Gardner, Boss," Havoc asked, trying to change the charged atmosphere in the front office.

"Oh, yeah," Ed said remembering his earlier appointment, turning around to look at the strained soldiers, his fake smile still in place. "It went fine. Got to get Brigadier General Bastard to sign off on the project, but it looks interesting."

"Fullmetal," Mustang's voice called from his inner doorway. His arms were folded over his chest and there was a frown that Ed was starting to recognize behind the façade. He curled his finger a few times, and Ed knew he would want a report, just like when he'd met with the other Brass, even on those "impromptu" meetings. Fuck.

Ed hung his head and sighed, resigned to the routine. Then he popped his head up, smiled his wide fake smile, and strutted over to the inner office. He gave the team what he hoped would be a look of reassurance, but he was pretty sure they weren't buying it. He sighed again as he entered Mustang's office and closed the door behind him. He plopped on the couch like nothing was wrong, hoping he could get through this without having to tell Mustang about Hakuro. It was his problem; he'd deal with it, somehow.

"Let's hear it," Mustang said without preamble.

"What? Nothing," Ed feigned innocence.

"Don't 'nothing' me, Fullmetal. What happened with Gardner to rile you up so much?" Mustang demanded.

"Nothing. Really. He just wants me to work on separating inorganic and organic bonds. It probably has to do with that black shit from the gate. You said last week that they were still trying to figure out how to get it off the German shrapnel, right?"

Surprisingly, after their discussion in North City, that that shithead Hakuro was mistaking for fucking, was leading to distinctly different, yet unexpected, benefits. Ed was throwing his full weight behind Mustang, and the Flame Alchemist was _sharing_ his intel about the German assault and anything else he thought Ed should know, like where and how the Red Stones were kept.

Of course, Ed had done a little tinkering with the security features, increasing their strength tenfold with the addition of a few lines in the alchemical arrays protecting those damn Stones. It had been a fun little side trip through a supply closet ceiling. After that, Mustang had laughably asked Research and Development to increase security, specifically against alchemical entry through the walls, ceilings and floors. Classic.

Right now, however, Ed was not in the mood to share being fucking threatened with sex or court martial for sleeping with a man he had _actively not slept with_. Damn it!

"We'll get to Garnder's project after you tell me why you nearly ripped the door off its hinge," Mustang said with a no-nonsense glare that captured Ed's eyes.

Gold locked with onyx, and Ed was sinking. Deeper, deeper into a pool of black. He felt like he was being dragged under, deep into the limitless eye that saw too much. It was nearly suffocating trying to keep the truth at bay. Mustang knew it too, because as soon as Ed blinked, the Bastard smirked.

"Come on, Fullmetal, what happened?" Mustang pressed now that he had won the staring contest, and by the way, how does someone win with only one eye? Whatever. Ed let out a huff of air and gave up.

"That fucker Hakuro caught me in the back hallway by the stairs on the fifth floor," Ed said.

"Ah, I thought so," Mustang hummed to himself.

"What do you mean you thought so? Fuck. This is just like when I was a kid and you'd know everything I'd left out of my reports. Damn it. What ever happened to sharing?" Ed breathed, trying to control his irritation.

"That's a two-way street, Fullmetal," Mustang said with a meaningful glance.

He let his frustration show now, not carrying to guard his expression now that the Bastard had won this round. Ed was angry with Hakuro for being a sick fuck. He was mad at himself for getting himself into this situation. And he was irritated with Mustang for knowing things and pretending not to in order to get his way. Couldn't the Bastard simply tell him what he knew? Was that so hard?

Mustang sighed.

"Well, your meeting ran over the time it normally takes; additionally, when I called Hakuro's office to set a follow up meeting regarding the foiled assassination attempt at your assessment, Gladys said he had stepped out for a few minutes. He only does that if he's meeting the Führer or if he's trying to catch someone off balanced in the halls somewhere."

"Oh," Ed replied, surprised at Mustang's disclosed deductions. Maybe it wasn't so hard for the Bastard.

"So, what did he want? Transferring to his unit?" Mustang asked nonchalantly.

"Uh… yeah, more or less," Ed said, trying to withhold the added bonus of sexual harassment and/or promised court martial. At this point all of his Kai Training™ was completely on empty.

"Is that all?" Mustang pressed, and Ed could tell the attentive brunet saw right through him.

"Umm… he… uh… was a little more… forceful than I was expecting…" Damn. He really was not covering up the holes in his story. He was basically back to the level he was at before Kai had taught him anything.

"'Forceful'…" His CO repeated, expecting an explanation.

"Um… yeah…" Ed hedged.

"What did you do, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked in a resigned voice.

"Me?! The fuck! He fucking deserved more than he got!" Ed sucked in a breath after he realized he'd already said too much. Shit.

"What did you do?" Mustang demanded in a stronger tone that required an answer as he sat up.

"Uh…" Ed squirmed. He really didn't want to talk about it. What would Mustang do if he knew what had happened in that secluded hallway? He didn't think the Bastard would be surprised, but Ed also didn't want to tell anyone about the way Hakuro had touched him. He was the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, Edward Elric. A strong man who had overcome so much in his short life. He was not going to be thought of as weak. He wouldn't.

"Fullmetal…" Mustang dragged out his name, and Ed knew the Bastard would find out anyways.

"I, uh… may have push him into a wall?" Ed admitted.

Mustang let out a sigh and as he leaned back in his chair, his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

"Anything else? Better to know it all when I go to the Fuhrer," Mustang finally said.

"The Fuhrer?" Ed asked, surprised.

"Of course," Mustang said, surprised, picking his head up to look Ed in the eye again. Was that hurt in the crinkle of his eye? "No one, and I mean _no one_ is going to assault a member of my team and get away with it, not even a Major General."

"You're not even going to ask what he did?" Ed asked in surprise.

"I can guess. I won't make you tell me, but you will have to fill out a report," Mustang said with an understanding line in the movement of his lower lip.

"Thanks," Ed said before he smiled and rose from his position on the couch.

Mustang stood too, and reached into his desk, depressing an array Ed had never noticed. After the brief blue light faded away, an enlarged drawer was left, and the Bastard pulled out a folder from the files.

"What's that?" Ed asked, curiously.

"I'm not going in unarmed, Fullmetal," he said.

-8-

"Hello Shelska. Thank you for your help in arranging this meeting last minute," Roy said to the mousy secretary.

"When I got your call, Brigadier General, I thought it was odd that you'd be coming during everyone's lunch hour. No one else is even on our floor," she said with curiosity burning in her eyes.

"Sorry for keeping you, but the matter was rather time sensitive," Roy said. He was glad she'd been able to squeeze them him; they'd need the extra security of fewer ears. It wasn't every day that the head of Internal Security met with the Führer in person outside monthly briefings.

"Oh, no. It's fine, Brigadier General. I knew as soon as you called it was serious, so I cleared some extra time into the afternoon, too," she added.

A stoic Grumman appeared behind her then and nodded his approval as he met them at his door.

"Alright, Brigadier General, let's get this unpleasantness over with, whatever it is," he said while waving Roy and Fullmetal into the massive office.

Roy took in the white room and the mahogany desk with Amestrian dragons in this expansive room.

"So, what seems to be the problem, Brigadier General Mustang, Colonel Elric?" the Führer of Amestris asked, fully embodying his role, so much so that the vast room seemed almost too small for the man as he sat behind his imposing desk. He did not offer for them to sit, and Roy took note. It was clear to everyone that this was not a happy visit.

"Sir," the two junior officers said in unison before Roy continued. "It has come to my attention that a ranking officer has acted unbefitting of his station, sir."

"Ah," the Fuhrer nodded. "I see. So he outranks you, and you need my approval to pursue the issue," he said. It wasn't a question, and they all knew it. "What is the offense?"

"Sir," Roy said, stepping forward with the folder he had removed from his alchemically locked drawer.

The Führer took it, pausing as he read the first page, then he looked up to Fullmetal before he thumbed through the rest of the pages. He dropped the folder on the desk and pointed his boney finger at the spilt pile that feathered out across the wood.

-8-

Ed saw from where he was standing that there were a number of complaints filed against Hakuro: sexual harassment, inappropriate conduct befitting an officer, and reports of civilians having been sexually assaulted. Among the documents was Ed's decoded note from four months ago, indicating being harassed as a teen, and a page with a familiar name written on it. Rose Thomas.

Ed inhaled sharply. Rose? Ed had just seen her and her five-year-old boy, Jax, on that bullshit propaganda tour. How was she related to Hakuro? What had he done to her?! The form was dated around six years ago. When would the territorial Major General have left his office in Central to have been within 100 miles of Rose?

Wait. Six years ago? Hadn't the Major General led the military campaign to subdue the riots in Lior before Rose had Jax? Oh, fuck! No wonder Rose never said anything about who Jax's father was! It was the Major General?! That fucker was Jax's… Then he had… To Rose?! That mother fucker!

"Is this accurate, Colonel?" the Führer asked Ed, startling him out of his thoughts. Grumman waited, staring at him over his rimmed glasses, the angle obscuring his expressive mouth below his bushy whiskers.

"Sir, I can only confirm my own accounts," Ed said in his best approximation of a military voice.

"Do you have any proof," Grumman asked him, sounding old but resigned.

"He said that I needed to show up here Friday night at 9 or face a court martial Monday," Ed said as he pulled out the address Hakuro had shoved in his pocket that morning and placed it on the old man's desk on top of the file Mustang had given him.

"I see," Grumman said somberly, "and what of these others, Brigadier General?"

"I have verified all of the reports in this file, the others, which are all circumstantial, are currently under review, sir," Mustang said in a straightforward reply, and Grumman raised an eyebrow at his response.

"'The others?'" Grumman asked in a slightly unbalanced voice. "Brigadier General, you will bring them all to my office before end of day today with their current evaluation status."

"Sir," Mustang replied.

"Once I have them all, I will have Brigadier General Fairchild reexamine them," Grumman said and stopped Ed's angry rebuttal with a hand. "Rules are rules, Colonel. Charges, if filed, will be lodged with the Judicial Department by Intelligence, but only after they review their findings. Based on these though, the most he'll get is a Special Court-Martial with a single judge and a dock in pay for the next six months.

"If he had actually forced himself on you, Colonel, it would have been much more severe; however, if the judge feels his actions undermined good order, discipline, authority or morale, he may face steeper penalties, but these, unfortunately, are not severe enough to warrant a full dismissal by General Court-Martial." He turned to Mustang then and asked, "Are you sure you want to show your hand this early?"

"I am not willing to sit back at the expense of my men," Mustang said with more feeling than he had since Ed had entered his inner office that morning. Grumman and Mustang started their own staring contest.

Ed felt his heart clench. Mustang was fighting the Führer on his behalf. The Bastard was going up against his own CO for Ed with nothing but Ed's word as a strip of paper. It sent butterflies fluttering in his gut. What had he expected the man to do? Not this, and that was saying something. He hadn't expected Mustang to take his side without question, even more so after admitting to pushing a superior officer into a wall, not that the fucker didn't deserve to go through it instead. Mustang was standing up for him, backing him up, believing him unconditionally.

It was… nice. Ed's heart squeezed and fluttered again in an oxymoronic way. It was contradictory, in a way he'd been avoiding thinking about since they'd talked in North City. Damn Bastard.

He didn't want the Bastard to be nice to him now. Ed was with Russell. There was no future with the Bastard. No future, no present, no past, just some dreams between there and here and years of begrudging trust. He wished he could believe that those dreams were how his subconscious had kept him sane in Germany, but he couldn't. They were real, even if they had stopped over a year ago for who knew why.

He just had to let them go along with whatever part of himself held out hope that he and Mustang could be together. That part of him had to face reality. He was with Russell. He and Mustang being together wasn't going to happen, but that didn't mean Mustang wasn't going to believe him when he was in trouble. It didn't mean Mustang wasn't going to share information on the German investigations or the Red Stones in Research and Development. It didn't mean he wouldn't help Mustang to the top. They would still do all of that, and he was glad.

Before Ed could get too happy, though, the old man spoke.

"Don't take the bishop if you can draw out the king," Grumman said, looking directly at Mustang.

"What the hell does that mean?" Ed asked, confused.

"There's more at play here than you realize," Grumman shifted his gaze to Ed then back to Mustang.

"So what? We don't do anything?" Ed angrily asked, looking at Mustang who seemed to be considering the old man's words with that hidden frown.

"We can go after him now, but the best we can expect is a slap on the wrist, Fullmetal. When we take him down, we want it to be for good, right?" Mustang clarified, looking Ed in the eye.

"I have told you before that there is a faction that is, shall we say, unhappy with the way I am running the country, have I not?" Grumman asked Ed, and he nodded. "Well, why do you think someone who has so many grievous crimes charged against him would only receive a Special Court-Martial or simply a dock in pay?"

"Is someone protecting him?" Ed asked.

"That or a group is," Grumman added.

"I assume you are still working out who the leader is," Mustang asked, and Grumman just nodded.

"Then what do you want me to do about Friday night?" Ed asked. "He's still expecting me to show up!"

"Go," Grumman answered flatly.

"The fuck?" Ed nearly shouted.

"Fullmetal," Mustang said. "Language."

"Seriously? That's your concern?" Ed stepped back from his CO. The bastard was showing his colors now. Fucking politics! Ed hated this bullshit! "Fuck. Whatever. Fine, so I go. Then what? You want me to…" Ed couldn't bring himself to finish that thought.

"Do you trust me?" Mustang asked suddenly, making eye contact with that deep pool of onyx.

"What?" Ed asked unsure. The fluttering of a million butterflies jammed his throat, and Ed couldn't help but feel the blush that crept to his cheeks.

"Do you trust me?" Mustang repeated, his stare hard.

* * *

William Hakuro poured himself some more wine, his Xingese silk robe sliding along his arm with the movement. His excitement was throbbing through him to his fingertips. The more he thought about it, the more eager he became. He could barely contain himself.

Glancing around his opulent yet small apartment, he was again glad that he had secretly purchased it. Located in a sleepy neighborhood, it's front melded innocuously into its surroundings. The leather chair and couch furnishing its living room were sturdy and plush, while the ornate wood coffee table and fixtures on the walls stood boldly in relief against the sensuous firelight. Apart from the décor, he'd only had to install soundproofing to make it ideal for these midnight trysts.

While his wife and children were boons to his life, and he loved them dearly, they could never fulfil him the way he needed. It was only here or in The Garden where he could be his freest. And tonight…

William closed his eyes and remembered the intoxicating body he was meeting. His fingers still thrummed with the feeling of taut muscle and tempting heat as he had struck his claim. The heady scent of mechanically tainted paper and sunshine still clung to his nose, even days later.

Fearful and shocked golden eyes gazed at him, as they had in that secluded hall, but this time William pictured them looking up at him as he moved above them. He bit his tongue at the image of that damnable young man held firmly restrained below him. William's breathing began to pick up, imagining the taste and rush that would soon follow, but he called himself back from the fantasy. The real thing would be better, and he would be here soon.

William opened his eyes, trying to be patient, as he sat gripping his rawhide armchair. Calm. He had to be composed. Tonight was not to be rushed, no matter how long he'd had to wait for it. The clock on the porcelain mantle ticked by. Nearly 9 PM. Almost time.

The clock struck nine just as he heard a knock on the door. He rose with a knowing smirk. William knew the kid would obediently come to submit. Invigorated, he crossed the fire lit room at a controlled pace with a smile full of teeth.

Swinging the door open with a smug and hungry grin, William looked into his guest's eyes. Or rather, a pitch eye and a black eye patch.

"What the…" William began to holler, but Mustang smiled at him with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid Fullmetal had other obligations this evening, Major General, but I happened to be free," the upstart rogue said.

William stepped back in surprise, and the scoundrel took it as an invitation, stepping in around him.

"Thank you," Mustang said, bowing his head, and entered William's living room.

"What do you think you are doing?" William called, trying to get over the shock of the unexpected change of events and the sight of the whelp hanging up his coat on William's wall rack.

No one knew about this place! How had the obnoxious social climber found it? Had his golden target shared William's note? Damn. It had been a mistake to have written it down, then. He should have collected those topaz eyes himself.

He slammed the door closed before turning to find the uninvited rogue sniffing the wine he'd just been enjoying.

"I see you have a fine sense," the younger officer said without turning around, mockery dancing in his words.

"Say what you came to say, Mustang," William spit. Not only had his night been spoiled, but he doubted he'd like anything the upstart had to say. "Don't think this changes anything. He'll still be court martialed Monday morning for assaulting a superior officer."

"As is your right, Major General," the brunet said nonchalantly, airily brushing off William's threat as he circled the room taking in its details, "but I would caution you against it."

"And why is that?" William sneered and crossed his arms over his expansive chest, glaring at his subordinate.

"You know, you have a very rare shade of grey eyes, Major General," Mustang said as he turned back and made eye contact over the coffee table.

"Hardly," William said, hiding his confusion at the change of topic. To his knowledge, the distinct color was found in a small collection of inter-bred lineages throughout Amestris, and only four passed down grey eyes in the East, his home region. "It marks quite a few elite families."

"Rare enough to suggest paternity," the cad said, swishing William's wine, preparing to taste it. The showoff spread his arms and planted himself on the leather armchair William had been sitting in earlier. That left the overstuffed couch that took up the remainder of the room, but William would be damned if he was going to be bowled over by Mustang's posturing.

It infuriated him to see the man make himself at home in William's personal space, but the Major General, too, could play at political bravado. Obviously, Mustang knew the arrangement he had made with the golden eyed youth he had meant to meet, but now there was no hope of fulfilling that fantasy tonight.

"Paternity?" he balked instead. "This coming from the man who has slept his way through half of Central," William laughed derisively as he seized his glass back and took a drink before the pup could. He turned his back then, and walking away from the bootlicker. What was Mustang playing at? True, both his children had grey eyes, but so did a number of prominent Eastern families. Where was he going with this?

"So your good sense stops with wine?" his subordinate asked unenthusiastically, standing, obviously giving up William's throne when he had not been able to rattle his superior with his childish display.

"How dare you," William accused.

"Well, if you don't know, you don't know, I suppose," Mustang sighed. "I believe belated congratulations are in order, then, sir."

"What?" William demanded, angry at having to play a different game of cat and mouse than he had planned tonight. He retook his vacated seat of power.

Mustang smiled insolently and stepped in front of William before sitting on the corner of the coffee table, directly in front of him. The cad pulled a small square article from his breast pocket, and held it in William's face.

The older General tried to look around the flat object without success; it was too close to his nose. Realizing it was a photograph, his eyesight focused on the image before pushing it out of his face. He glanced up at Mustang, wanting an explanation. He couldn't ask and keep his strong position or callused exterior, so he simply waited, sitting back and crossing one ankle on the opposite knee to give himself more room to dominate the lesser man. The rake made no move to elaborate.

"If that is all…" William said, making it obvious he had no interest in who was photographed. As if second guessing himself, the kowtower turned the photo to himself then looking William in the eye. Excellent; the pup would lose this fight.

"Seems they do run in families," Mustang said.

William snapped up the photo. It was of a child around the age of five. Laughing at an unknown joke, the boy stood in a recognizable desert town plaza. His two-toned reddish brown hair and tanned skin stood as sharp contrasts to hauntingly familiar grey eyes. Air seemed to leave his lungs in a rush, almost as if all the air in the room had been sucked out. Grey eyes. His eyes.

William opened his mouth, but didn't have words to make a coherent sentence, so he sat firm instead. He drew himself up in an imposing position, his lips into a thin line. What was this?! He couldn't let Mustang win. He was an Amestrian Major General, and lots of families had grey eyes; well, not lots, but a number. After a moment to marshal himself, William tried again.

"What joke is this? Paternity threats and a picture of a boy? This is what you came to say?" William laughed stiffly, "I expect Elric here tomorrow night or the court martial stands."

"As you say, Major General, it is just a picture of a grey eyed boy," he said nonchalantly as he retrieved the photo, "but I thought you might want a picture of _your son_. I hear fathers are always ready to share pictures of their children," Mustang said, not giving up on his allegations.

"I am no more this boy's father than I am a woman!" William howled with a hint of his crazed disbelief. He had another son? No, it couldn't be, could it? Those eyes… that desert town…

"I had no idea you had wished to have Fullmetal ride _you_ , sir," the socialite said scathingly as he stood. He rounded the coffee table and sauntered to get his coat. "My mistake." After his subordinate threw his coat across his shoulders like some gallant cape, he called behind him. "Fathering a child out of wedlock can easily be forgiven, but if the circumstances of his conception were to be known or if any _accident_ were to befall him or his mother, I'm sure even a night with Fullmetal would not be worth the backlash."

And all William could do was blankly watch as Mustang's back left through his front door.

His son. He had another son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I exist again! It's a miracle! Hahaha. Sorry for being MIA, but I'm back now and will be posting regularly until the end of this fic. This chapter took me forever to write-rewrite-write again. Plus any non-school related mental energy was stolen by Yuri!!! on Ice. Sorry again, but since this chapter is more like three chapters in one, hopefully you'll forgive me a little. *crosses fingers* Hope you like it! Oh, comments and follows make my writing muse sing, so comment away! We love hearing from you!


	38. Chapter 38

***Plan B***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

Ed grumbled to himself as the doorbell rang Saturday afternoon, stirring him from his research. Once Lieutenant General Gardner in R&D had shown him the project Ed was currently working on, he couldn't stop himself from saying yes. Along with his claim at his assessment that he wanted to strengthen alchemical bonds, Ed was also going to discover a way to dissolve those already created, returning them to their separate parts. And he could summarize why he needed to do it in one word.

Nina.

"Coming!" Ed called from his study as the doorbell rang for the second time. Rising from his seat, the charcoal cat nestled in his lap mer-umphed as it leapt to the floor, disgruntled from being awoken in the middle of his afternoon nap. "Sorry, Cop," Ed murmured.

He hung his head as he exited his home office, remembering the little girl who reached his heart. As soon as he had arrived in Central, he had loved her instantly. Nina's long chestnut twin braids, her adorable lisp, her unconditional love, and her beaming face-splitting-grin were etched into his soul. She was the innocent little girl who had wound her way into his heart, and his inability to save her had been, and still was, his greatest failing.

He combed his bangs back as he walked down the hall to his door, all the while feeling the weight of her short life. He had been unable to protect her, unable to revert Nina and Alexander back into their disparate parts, and unable to save her before Scar had killed her. Her death was on his hands, and he would never let another person go through the pain and agony of being fused with another living thing again, where death was the only option left. He would save them from her fate and give them back their lives.

It was only a matter of time before another fucking nut job created another human chimera. If Ed couldn't stop it from happening, then he would save them from a fate worse than death. He'd make them wholly themselves again, just watch!

Separating out bonded organic and inorganic material seemed like a good place to start his research. Then he could move on to disentangling organic or inorganic materials from like materials; the more similar they were, the more difficult they'd probably end up being to split apart, he figured. It really was an intriguing puzzle. If he could only figure this out, then he could save the next innocent life caught in that monstrous form. He just wished the assignment hadn't come attached with political strings.

"Fucking politics," Ed mumbled to himself just before unlocking the door.

It reminded him too much of when he was young and higher ranking officers had tried to influence or intimidate him into doing something when no one was watching. The creepier ones had asked him for sexual favors for a longer leash, better assignments, or cushier housing/presents/etc.

Shivering at the amalgam of memories, he brushed it off. It was in the past, and things were different now; well mostly. His current reputation and position kept most requests above board; however, Hakuro's display earlier this week still proved to be plain fucked up.

Fortunately, the latter had been dealt with for the time being. Ed was glad his CO had handled it last night while he waited in Mustang's car for the anxiety provoking outcome of the showdown.

Ed was also ecstatic that Mustang never asked for the details of Hakuro's sexual advances. They'd had a conversation like that once before, between worlds, in a dream somewhere between there and here. It had been a swirl of white with no politics, no agenda, no bullshit, just him and Mustang in that little room with his couch and that bastard's smirk behind his desk. Ed just wished he knew why he had been summarily shut out of that place a year and a half ago. Was it because he was aware of it now? That every night he fell asleep wondering if he'd get wake there?

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ed opened the door. When he did, he found Russell's smile fall on the other side of the entrance way. He was handsomely dressed in a fully buttoned dark grey wool coat, black pants, with black leather gloves and shoes. His eyes were bright, but began to dull as he took in Ed.

"Babe, is that what you're wearing?" the fair-haired blond asked in disbelief, looking over Ed's disheveled appearance.

"Uh, yeah. Obviously," Ed replied looking down at his rumpled brown pants and wrinkled long sleeve shirt, pushed up to the elbow. He was confused and affronted as the younger alchemist walked past him and into his house. "By the way, 'Hi Russell, you look nice. Come on in.'" He closed the door as he followed his guest inwards.

"Edward," Russell intoned low, sounding annoyed, "we have reservations at the new Aerugonian place in 20 minutes. You have to change if you want to meet their dress code."

"Oh shit! Sorry, Russell. I was distracted by political bullshit," Ed rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor in apology. "I'll get ready right now." Spinning on his heels, he hurried across the house to his room, noticing that Copernicus had joined the orange ball of fluff named Newton on the couch in the living room. Man, Ed's life would be so much simpler if he was a cat.

Russell breathed out a deep exhale, but smiled indulgently at Ed.

"Al not home?" he asked his frantic date as he followed the tousled man back to the bedroom.

"Nah," Ed called over his shoulder as he flung open his closet. "He had a study group with a girl from his class; I told him it was a date, but he wouldn't believe me." Grabbing the olive green tinted suit Gracia had insisted he buy, he threw it on the bed and faced his date for an awkward moment. "Um, Russell, as much as I like you, I don't think I'm ready for you to see me naked. Could you wait in the living room while I change?"

-8-

Blushing, Russell stammered an apology and closed the door behind him as he left Edward's room. He rested against the wall beside the door deflated, his head flung back. Russell remembered the comment he'd made to Al about spending time with Edward not talking during their last date. It had been true, only the reason had been that Edward was too busy eating and preparing for his assessment to really carry on a conversation. It wasn't Russell's fault if Al and the others had jumped to conclusions.

The plant alchemist did wonder if their second date would be an improvement over the last time they'd seen each other. They'd had dinner together, but that meal didn't count as a date in Russell's book because the General's entire team, except the man himself, had accompanied them along with Fletcher and Al. It had been a celebratory supper after dealing with the would-be assassin during Edward's evaluation and his having passed his assessment with that stupendous transmutation.

Russell had been looking forward to tonight just being him and Edward. Alone. All night. Fletcher and Al, with Russell's input, had concocted Al's 'study group/date' excuse to allow Russell time after dinner with Edward in an empty house. Al would be spending the night at the Tringham's apartment so the couple would stay undisturbed. Now, after hearing his beau's plea for privacy, he saw the futility in the whole plan.

Edward wasn't ready.

"Ok, I'm ready!" Edward called, coming out of his room, leaving the door ajar.

"Sure, you are," Russell mumbled to himself sarcastically as he pushed off the wall he had been leaning against.

"What was that?" Edward asked while locking his office door. Alchemically. Using multiple arrays. But he left his bedroom door wide open…

"Nothing," Russell waved off, taking in his date's appearance instead.

Edward was stunning. The olive in his jacket and slacks brought out the gold in his eyes. His hair had been rebound in a hightail that swung low across broad shoulder blades. The off-white gloves he wore matched his dress shirt which hung unbuttoned at the collar, allowing a tantalizing glimpse of his throat. Russell had to swallow so as not to drool for want of licking that smooth patch of skin up to behind his date's ear...

"OK," Edward confirmed, leading them to the door while wrapping himself in the grey wool overcoat and black scarf from the front closet. "Let's go."

Russell took Edward's right hand as soon as the latter locked his front door. The golden man promptly switched their hands, instead holding Russell's right hand in his left.

"It'll be better this way, trust me," Edward promised when Russell gave him a curious look. "Automail can give you frostbite if you're not careful," he mumbled apologetically.

"So long as I get to hold your hand," Russell replied with a sappy smile and Edward laughed.

Hearty bells rung in Russell's chest, reverberating in his heart. The light in Edward's eyes sparkled, and the warmth of their gloved hands shot up his arm. Cold wind swept over his cheeks, but he didn't feel the bite; he had something tender right here to keep him warm.

'Oh, gods, I'm in trouble,' he thought, laughingly. 'I've got it bad.'

They stayed like that, linked hand in hand, until they arrived at the restaurant.

-8-

"Two please; it's under Tringham," Ed said once he and Russell got to the podium where the busy hostess was taking seating requests.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. We are fully booked for the evening and your seats were given away since you were late. Care to set another time to visit?" she apologized, glancing down at her full reservation book.

"Really?" Russell questioned, leaning into the slender, brunette's space. "Even for the Fullmetal Alchemist?" He alluded, glancing at his date with a charming smile.

"Oh. My. Gods! Really? The Fullmetal Alchemist?!" she squealed, delighted by the realization.

A slow whisper spread behind Ed, and he knew the room was now staring at him.

"Of course we can accommodate you. This way please, sirs," she led them to a prominent area. It was the balcony table overlooking the main entrance and most of the restaurant.

"Could we have a more private table?" Ed asked in his winning smile while suppressing his groan. He really didn't want to be on display again.

"Of course, Mr. Fullmetal," she winked at him, glancing between him and Russell with an insinuating look. She led them to a secluded dark corner where couples with impure thoughts probably paid extra to sit. They took their seats in silence, but gave her kind smiles as she retreated to no doubt tell her coworkers who was here.

"Did you have to do that?" Ed cringed after the host turned the blind corner with a backwards peek, leaving them alone. "You know I don't want preferential treatment."

"Why are you mad, Babe? They wouldn't have seated us otherwise, and you are The Fullmetal Alchemist…" Russell reasoned as he looked over the menu flat on the table in front of him.

"We'll talk about it later," Ed promised, pulling up his menu to block the view of his calculating companion. "Let's just eat."

-8-

They spoke on alchemy, philosophy, and science. They talked about their brothers' ambitions and academic dreams. They debated current theory and past scientific blunders. The only thing they didn't talk about was themselves.

As their meals came and went, the ache in the pit of Russell's stomach began to grow. He was falling hard, harder than he thought he was already. Edward was charming, if unsophisticated. He didn't laugh often, but when he did, it was with his whole soul. It gleamed through his eyes and blanketed Russell with a warmth he hadn't known before.

The other men that Russell had dated seemed to always want something from him. They were after his intellect, his research, or his body. Some had even left him after realizing he didn't have any money or how devoted he was to his brother, but not Edward. His date was there enjoying just his company, and it was a breath of fresh air. Russell smiled at the man who accepted him for who he was, not expecting anything more or less.

Once they finished their dessert and coffee, Edward insisted on walking Russell home after he paid the bill. At first, Russell was resistant to the idea of heading back to his apartment, but then Edward pointed out it was only equivalent since Russell had picked him up for their date.

Russell relented then. They held hands all the way, and his heart fluttered in his chest. Cutting through the neighborhood park, the two enjoyed the snow covered grounds, snuggling closer together for body heat.

Walking up to the apartment complex gate, Edward followed Russell through the iron entryway off the street without hesitating. Russell led the way up two flights of stairs and down an indoor hallway to the third door on the left. Nervously fixated on his keys when they stopped, Russell missed the small smirk on Edwards's lips.

"Russell," Edward called him back to himself. "I had a great time tonight."

"I did too, Babe," he confessed. He wasn't ready to say goodnight, though. "Want to come in and have a drink?"

"I, uh…" Edward paused, and Russell could see the internal debate in his eyes. He wasn't sure which side was winning, but was glad to hear his date say, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Unlocking the door, Russell prayed to whatever gods were out there that no one was there.

"Fletch? You home?" he called once they were inside with no answer and no lights. "Well, looks like he's out."

"Why don't you get the drinks and I'll start a fire?" Edward offered, taking off his coat, scarf, and suit jacket. He laid them on the back of the couch that separated the living room to the left from the small dining area to the right.

"Oh, uh, sure," Russell finally said as he watched Edward heading around the cushioned divider to the fireplace on the far wall.

-8-

Ed thought it was cute that Russell was so nervous. He had already told the younger man he wasn't ready to get naked, but the poor guy was starting to shake like a leaf, and it wasn't from the cold. Ed pulled off his gloves then extracted a long match from those on the brick mantel piece and got down on his automail knee to light the logs in the grate.

He let the fire soothe his aching ports and warm his metal arm until he heard Russell returning from the kitchen through the dining room. His date held two mugs of something steamy.

"What's this?" Ed asked, taking the offered drink in both his hands, almost rising but stopping when Russell waved him back down. The heat radiated into his skin as he held his drink, easing the chill from his flesh fingers. Taking a deep inhale, he sniffed the dark liquid. "Smells like glühwein," Ed grinned.

"It is," Russell replied with a bit of surprise. "Heard of it?"

"Mmmhmm," Ed took a sip; his tongue was bathed in red wine and spices. His appreciation for the brew escaped him as a low moan, "Had some in Germany." It amused Ed when he thought about what did and did not have the same name there and here.

"This batch is made with red wine, oranges, apple, cinnamon, cloves, and a little bit of sugar." Russell listed with a smile. "Good, right?"

"Yeah. It's fucking great," Ed complemented with a smile. "You made this?"

"Actually, yes. My father left more in his research journals than alchemy," Russell imparted as he threw a few of the couch cushions onto the floor in front of the fire while not spilling his drink.

Once seated contentedly, Ed leaned his left shoulder against Russell's. Except for the blazing, crackling wood, it was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Ed liked listening to the low crackle of the fire and the feel of the supple man beside him. He felt when Russell raised an arm and wrapped it around his lower back to his outer hip. Ed leaned into the embrace, indulging in the feel of another's touch. He had been without physical contact for so long, not since Noah, and really not since his mother had died had he had someone hold him without shame.

Ed finished his mulled wine and placed his mug next to Russell's on the brick hearth lining the ground, licked by flames. Seated again, Ed turned to the violet-grey eyed man beside him and brushed pale bangs clean off Russell's cheek. A small reddish birthmark breached Russell's temple from his hairline, and Ed realized that this was why his date always wore his hair the way he did. Ed swept his fingers along it, noting his companion's averted eyes.

"You're beautiful, Russell," he whispered, and caught sight of both stunning violet-grey eyes. "Really. You are."

"Edward," Russell breathed back just above the snap of the fire. He raised his hand to brush Ed's cheek, sliding his thumb across the smooth crest below Ed's eye softly, back and forth. Ed leaned into the touch, placing a light kiss along Russell's exposed wrist.

To Ed's surprise, Russell slipped a hand behind the base of Ed's skull and pulled him in close and then on top of the taller man. The unexpected motion sent waves of excitement through Ed's chest as he lowered his mouth to Russell's waiting lips.

Gently at first, they melded together. Edward leaning into Russell, inhaling a scent of spiced wine, coffee, and Russell. It engulfed Ed's senses as he tried to absently identify the comforting aroma of the man now laying beneath him. He smelled of crisp wind, old books, and the ozone of transmutation.

Both of Russell's arms wrapped comfortingly around him, while he tried to keep his automail from coming into contact with or weighing upon Russell. It made it a little awkward for Ed to keep up the kiss and balance on one hand and one knee.

A tentative tongue lapped at Ed's mouth, and when he released a small moan, it slipped inside. They tasted each other, exploring deeper. Ed's tongue danced over Russell's again and again, making them both begin to breathe heavily. The slick, warm cavern confiscated Ed's attention, and he nearly lost his balance.

Almost as if sensing his dilemma, Russell surged upwards, rolling them over, landing Ed on his back. In a better position, Russell began to grind his hips into Ed's as he moved his demanding lips to Ed's neck.

Russell's hot mouth kissed along Ed's throat, up his jaw line and behind his ear, coated his skin in saliva that changed from heated ambrosia to cool breeze as soon as his partner moved on. The change in temperature was seductive. He moaned, delighted with the swift difference.

"Babe," Russell breathed in his ear. "Babe, gods, I want you."

Ed snapped opened his eyes, and he pulled back. He wasn't sure he was ready for this.

"Russell, I…" He what? What? His brain was reeling, trying to think.

"It's ok, Edward. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Russell whispered against his ear, sending shivers down his back.

"It's not that…" Ed anxiously began, sitting up to face those pale violet-grey eyes. "I just… I've never… I've never been with a man before," he finally admitted, biting the inside of his lower lip as he blushed. "I've only read about it. I think I've got the basics down, but…" his words failed him in his embarrassment. He had poured over those books in the library when he needed a break from preparing for his assessment or since then, but practice was always different than theory.

"Babe," Russell smiled, brushing his hand to Ed's cheek again. "It's fine. I told you we'd figure it out. Just go with what you're feeling, and when we get to the technical bits, I'll walk you through it."

At that, butterflies bloomed in Ed's chest and threatened to fly out of his tight throat. Then, without realizing it, Russell was kissing him again, pushing him back down to the floor, and Ed let him. Let himself relax into the touch.

Soft kisses ran along his jaw again, and he lifted his chin to allow Russell access to his throat. Gliding his hands up Russell's sides, the man ground down into him again. At the tantalizing bulge in Russell's pants, he panted a little harder, imagining what would come next. The excitement of not knowing for sure fueling him.

Ed gripped Russell's shirt and sat up, pulling Russell into his lap in a straddling position. His hand wound its way up to Russell's short hair, entwining his fingers there. His automail hand held fast to Russell's lower back, holding Russell close as he began to work his mouth along a warm pulsing throat and grinding his own growing erection up into his captive.

Russell's head fell back at Ed's attack, gasping for breath. Ed's thick member rubbed into his companion, and he could feel the responding throb of Russell's cock. Suddenly they were both wearing too many clothes.

Ed began kissing down every inch of Russell's liberated chest as he unbuttoned the panting man's shirt, and in return nimble fingers began to work his clothes open. Feeling slightly ill at ease with showing off his disfigured chest and leg at their ports, Ed grabbed Russell again, burying his face in Russell's neck, pushing the man in his lap back onto the ground.

He undid Russel's belt and pants, tugging them off a little roughly before undoing his own. The view of his naked and wanting companion was a balm to his growing nerves. He slid his pants lower down his thighs, just above his automail joint, more slowly. They both wanted this, and that thought calmed him further.

"Do you have any…" Ed asked unsure.

"Lube? Yes… don't be mad, but it's in my pant pocket," Russell nodded to his discarded slacks on the floor just out of his reach.

Ed laughed a short hoarse chuckle, leaning over and off to the side to retrieve them. His mostly unbuttoned shirt fluttering open across his chest with the motion. It kept his automail shoulder covered, even as he moved, and he was comforted to know his lover wasn't distracted by the gnarled sight.

"Always carry chalk and lube?" Ed asked sardonically while pulling out the two items from the black pant pocket. "What a good alchemist you are." He laughed off his nerves.

"Well, if the night went the way I'd hoped, I didn't want to not be able to because you didn't have any," Russell admitted slightly embarrassed.

"And what makes you think I wouldn't have any?" Ed smirked playfully, leaning back as he threw the chalk and slacks to their original spot on the floor, placing the little bottle of lubricant by Russell's hip for easy access.

"Well, I…" Russell began defensively, but his breath hitched as Ed slid his partially naked self over Russell once more, savoring the heat. "Mmm, Babe," the pale blond moaned, trying to pull down Ed's pants.

Rubbing their bodies together, Ed leaned into his lover, stopping Russell's subtle demand for him to get fully naked. Slick with sweat, both writhed, and Ed captured Russell's wrists, pulling them tightly off to each side of the latter's hips. Ed's mouth traveled down the malleable man beneath him. He tasted Russell's chest, breathing heavily on pert nipples before sampling them. Ed was encouraged by Russell's sharp inhale. Lapping at the heaving chest, his tongue played with one and then the other dark pink tips. Salty flesh shivered and rose into goosebumps under his attention. He was enthralled with Russell's reactions.

"Babe," Russell called shaking his head, and Ed knew what he wanted. Forgettng his nervousness, Ed smiled. He obliged his partner, skimming his teeth and lips down, down, down. He stopped, keeping hold of Russell's wrists at his sides, then began to tease the manhood dripping in front of him, breathing heated damp air above it.

"Gods, Babe, please…" Russell begged.

"Please what, Russell?"

"Uhhh… Nuhh…" The younger man bucked and huffed and strained into the open air.

"If you don't tell me, how am I supposed to know the technical bits?" Ed teased, having read enough to know what comes next.

"Edward, damn it… put it in your mouth and suck on it. Pl-Please," he begged, nearly whimpering, as they made eye contact, "for crying out loud."

Smiling at his partner, excited that he could make Russell beg him while losing control of that cool exterior. He glanced down at the weeping arousal, smelling the tang of salt and sweat and Russell.

New to the experience, Ed tentatively traced his tongue along the shaft, licking its length. He was rewarded by a shiver from Russell. His swollen lips kissed the warm, wet tip, seeking more purchase. Ed opened his mouth further, slowly taking in the silken rigid cock as deep as he could. Relaxing his jaw and throat like he'd read, he lowered his head further and further, finally releasing Russell's arms in favor of grasping the base of the man's throbbing member.

From Russell's breathing, he could tell his partner was enjoying himself. He had read as many books as he had time for when he had gotten back to Amestris, but he had never expected to enjoy himself this much. This is why he liked practical alchemy, because while theory was interesting, application was so much more satisfying.

"Ahh. Ed…ward, uh! Gods, yes…" Russell panted, carding his hand into Ed's hair. "Just… ah… Yes…. Just like that… mmmah!"

Working his hand up and down, he sucked with maddening passion.

"Edward... I'm gonna... ah!" was all Russell could say as he clawed at the carpet, in Ed's hair, and drove his hips upwards in a frenzy until he shuddered into the back of Ed's throat, releasing his seed. Russell groaned, clenching his teeth and arching his back as he climaxed, pulsing come from his galvanized cock.

As unexpected as Russell's first finale was, Ed did his best to swallow it down, trying not to gag on it. Step one, getting his partner to reach a relaxed state after climax: complete. When Ed sat back up to look at the adoring man sprawled out under him, he wiped his mouth on his flesh arm. His own straining cock aching to be touched.

"Do it like that?" Ed asked smugly, proud of his achievements thus far tonight.

"Oh, Babe… Just like that. Anytime…" Russell fumbled with the words.

"Do you still wanna…" Ed asked hopefully.

Russell laughed, but met his eyes and nodded.

"Start out with one finger and then add more as I adjust… You'll know when."

With a single nod, Ed reached over to the abandoned bottle beside his knee and squeezed out a generous amount on his flesh fingers, or at least he hoped it was. He sank back down and began to kiss his lover's inner thighs, wrapping his warmed automail under and around Russell's leg. His slicked fingers dripped as they reached his partner's entrance and began to rub the outside ring in a circular pattern. He knew he had to go slow at first and not let his excitement get away from him.

He coaxed Russell to relax further with his middle and index fingers, allowing them to negotiate for him. Warmth and slickness encouraged Russell, and Ed began to slip in a single finger, somewhat surprised that it slid in with minimal tightening. He waited for the ring to stop spasming before he began to message the inner passage.

"Holy shit, you're so fucking hot in here, Russell," Ed murmured low, huskily. "I can't even imagine what you'll feel like wrapped around me."

"Mmphmm… Ah… Babe, add another. It's not enough… Just thinking of you in me… it's not enough. I need more…" Russell demanded earnestly.

Turned on even more, Ed's neglected cock twitched at Russell's words. He entered another finger, spreading them once he felt his partner relax at the intrusion.

"Mmm… Yeah, Babe, yes… more…" his lover gasped as Ed twirled his fingers in and almost out before plunging them in again and again "I want more… Edward!"

It was apparent that the younger blond was recovering quickly, as his manhood began to stand again. Ed licked the delicate flesh, taking it in his mouth again, feeling it becoming rigid again as he nibbled, and sucked, and tasted it. As a third finger was added into Russell, the man cried out, and Ed stilled.

"No, don't stop, Babe," Russell ordered, becoming frantic at the thought. "You just… hit my spot."

"Oh," Ed breathed a sigh of relief. He was so close to coming himself, just from touching Russell, that he didn't want to stop now. "This spot?" thrusting his digits in to hit the small internal nub with the pad of his fingers again.

"UH! Gods, yes! Edward!" Russell bowed at the touch.

Confident he'd opened his partner up enough, and unable to hold back, Ed positioned himself closer to Russell. Step two, stretch his partner out to accommodate him: complete. He withdrew his fingers and finally touched his ignored dick. Ed's thighs were restrained, held tight by his pants and underwear, but it seemed to only spur him on. He slicked himself with his lube covered fingers, arching his own back at the touch.

"Russell…" Ed murmured in a hushed grunt.

"Gods, Edward, yes. I want you…" the man panted.

"Alright," Ed breathed, preparing himself.

He directed his wet and dripping cock to Russell's entrance, pushing his tip in. At the sudden inhalation from his lover, Ed paused and waited, holding in his own gasp.

"Go all the w-way to the hilt, then wait," Russell guided.

Ed nodded then licked his swollen lips before driving in slowing, being squeezed and clutched tightly. He tried to keep himself reigned in, having to breathe deeply as the heat and silk enraptured him. Ed knew he needed to keep calm if he wanted to last. He'd waited for his turn, and he wasn't going to waste all his effort now. He wanted this to be good for both of them.

"Russell," he moaned. "Fuck, how do you feel this damn good?! Ah…" he demanded as he finally reached the end of his tortuous journey. Ed waited patiently for Russell's body to accept all of him. He heard the pale violet-grey eyed man beneath him begin to breath steadily.

"Ok, Babe… move…" Russell offered, slicking his own fingers with lubricant as he looked into Ed's eyes, making sure his idea was alright.

Ed nodded, and not needing any further invitation, he pulled his hips back gliding backwards slowly.

"Ah…" Ed breathed heavily, biting back a moan. He could feel the pull of Russell's muscles as he nearly retreated to the tip, then he crashed back into his partner. He groaned at the rush of sensation and heat. And then was thrusting again and again, Russell calling his name over and over.

The fair-haired blond gripped Ed's sides, pulling him down and raising his hips to accommodate Ed. Grasping Russell's hips and indulging his desires, he plunged into that silken, slick heat before feeling his lover's hand clasp his ass. Slick fingers slid around his entrance, and he repositioned himself to give Russell more access.

He felt himself buck mid thrust as a finger entered him. It felt so good, he had to catch his breath. Then another spread him too wide.

"Too much. Too much," he told Russell and his lover removed a finger, which felt amazing all by itself. "Yeah. That's it," he pumped as a singular finger impaled him. "Yeah, Russell…" he praised as he picked up his pace.

His touch reached for Russell's neglected cock, and Ed encircled its hard form while using his automail hand on the floor next to Russell's head to balance. He felt the beaded sweat on his back trickled down beneath his shirt as he thrust forward again. A familiar sensation began to grow in his lower abdomen, coiling with each lunge and repetition, pulling him further and further.

Anew, another digit was added to his own entrance, and this time it was just right. Clever fingers messaged him, searching for his pleasure point on his down strokes. He himself delved deeper, pulling Russell closer to him, feeling the push-pull of sensation. Russell held on to him tightly with one arm, his nails digging in Ed's back, as the other dexterously messaged his passage.

"Russell… I'm close…" Ed warned in a breathy needy voice into Russell's ear. His hips no longer followed a smooth rhythm. He tightened his grip on Russell's member, jerking fiercer as his lover quivered and bit his lip. Ed kissed along the salty line of Russell's shoulder and plunged frantically as his lover pressed back against him.

"Edward… Edward… I'm… Uhhh!" Russell exclaimed as he came over the edge of Ed's hand.

Ed squeezed and let his lover pulse out the remains of his orgasm before seeking his own pleasurable release. Grasping Russell's shoulders and wrapping himself around his spent companion, he thrust again and again chasing it. Nearly there, he clenched around Russell's fingers and rocketed into the heart of oblivion. His body rocked hard, bucking and lost in sensation as he sowed his load, sharply, feeling his body spasm over and again until he, too, was spent.

Resting heavily on Russell, Ed began to come down from bliss. Fingers were freed from within him and his breathing steadied. His own flesh fingers and toes began to tingle with sensation again, and his mind began to surface from the intoxicating scent of sex, spiced wine, and Russell.

Slowly, he leveraged himself out and off of his pale blond paramour, rolling onto his back, pulling a limp Russell into a side embrace, and rested his lover's head on his exposed chest. Ed drew arrays on Russell's back with his automail fingers while he held the younger man to him. Russell, for his part, let him; the plant alchemist lay limply against him, one arm over his chest and nuzzled his head into Ed.

They stayed like that, in front of the fire, Ed holding Russell, as they lay there mostly naked. He had no idea where his gloves were, nor did he care. Ed watched the firelight on his companion's features as the other man began to fall asleep, his even breathing giving away his level of relaxation.

While Ed didn't know what time it was, he figured his brother would appreciate a late night phone call to make sure he was safe over waking to find Ed missing still. That, coupled with the itchiness from the drying evidence of Russell and his impassioned lovemaking on his skin, Ed wiggled free to stand. He found a towel and, after cleaning himself and righting his clothes, returned to refresh his lover. Only after assuring a very sleepy Russell that he wasn't leaving, Ed called his brother from the kitchen.

He was surprised to hear Fletcher in the background.

"Hey, Al," Ed said sheepishly.

"Hello, Brother," Al sleepily replied around a yawn.

"I'm, uh, staying at Russell's tonight, ok?" He asked even though he was the elder brother. He felt guilty for not letting Al know what was happening before…12:43 AM… Damn he was going to be in trouble.

"It's ok, Brother. I figured since Fletcher and I showed up at their apartment and found Russell's note in the window, so we headed back here. Let Russell know, if he's still awake." His younger brother's smirk could be heard over the phone.

"Uh, sure," Ed weakly promised. "Tell Fletcher I'm sorry for kicking him out of his own place," he relayed as he retracted the page stuck to the kitchen window, hoping it wasn't too explicit for the neighbors.

It read 'Plan B.' Ed stared at it confused as a new voice came on the phone.

"It's alright, Ed," Fletcher's happy tone made Ed feel both embarrassed and relieved at the same time. "I'm just happy you and Brother had a nice night together."

Ok. Obviously, he was missing something. They were both too happy and seemed to know way too much.

"Yeah, ok, Fletcher. Can you put Al back on?" Ed hastily asked as the wheels in his head began to turn, picked up speed, and then spun at a hundred miles a minute.

"Sure thing," the chiming voice sounded loud in the quiet of the dark apartment, then he heard his brother back on the line.

"Hey, why did you come to Russell's anyway, Al? Weren't you supposed to come home after your date?" he questioned his brother.

"Oh, well, Fletcher, Russell and I thought it might be nice for the two of you to have some alone time, so I was going to spend the night at their apartment, but you beat me to it," Al sounded too chipper.

"What do you mean the three of you thought? And what the hell is 'Plan B?'" He glared at the now crumpled page in his automail fist with a sinking feeling in his gut and anger pumping in his veins.

Fuck.

He hated being manipulated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you enjoyed the fun smut. First time writing it, so hope I did it justice. I also hope I got across that Russell, Fletcher, and Al planned to get Ed and Russell to sleep together that night, and Ed throwing a wrench into that plan by insisting on walking Russell back to his place after their date. Ed is not a happy camper to figure that out, let me tell you. Anyways, see you after Christmas in a few days for another update!


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***WARNING***
> 
> This chapter is suuuuper dark. Violent imagery, gore, psychological thriller stuff... nothing too far outside of canon level visuals, if I do say so myself. Probably as dark as I will go in this story, but I wanted to warn you so I didn't scare people off. Although, since you've stuck with me this far, I hope I don't lose you here. But stick around; everything gets better... eventually.

***Nightmare***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

Shuffling down a cold, dark hallway, Ed found himself moving forward with nowhere to go and no purpose but to continue. Shadowed windows lined the right wall and doors appeared along the left as he proceeded. He knew that if he were to attempt to open any of them they would be locked, so he didn't try.

Edgy now, he continued. The chill in the air swathed his skin as he moved as if it was trying to resist his movements him. A dull light shone at the end of the corridor, and Ed began to walk along at a faster rate, curious now, but the hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms were standing straight up.

He became aware of a strange tang in the air. Some horrible, yet familiar, taste clung to the back of his throat. It smelled salty, but it was also metallic. Ed shook his head as he tried to avoid identifying the scent.

Blue night shades of light colored and filled the hallway, enfolding the world in an unnatural hue. Pitter-pat, pitter-pat. Ed felt warm slick drops land on his arm and forehead. Looking up, he tried to see where the wetness was coming from, another splatter hit his cheek. Dripping from the ceiling was an inky blackness that began to slide down the walls and sealed egresses, coating and covering any vestiges of contour.

A husky voice echoed in the liquid drops, and a figure grew from the glazed walls. Hakuro's seductive baritone crossed the hall to him.

"You know what I'm offering, don't you, Elric. A night with me can give you so much more than Mustang ever could," the purr from the old General clung to his ear while a liquid tongue licked and smeared the drops on his cheek down along his neck, making his skin crawl as it slithered down his skin.

As he jerked away, running up the hall, the swelling fluid darkness along the walls began to pool along the floor, leaving little room to step. With every moment came the growing fear that the crimson-obsidian fluid would begin to climb him. His fingers accidently brushed the darkness, and he brought it to his eye line, rubbing the slick yet sticky viscous material between his flesh fingers, thinking it might look red if there was any light to see.

Then, before he could think too much about it, the light shone brighter at the end of the pathway. As he came closer to it, its source began to take shape. It was shining through the cracks around and underneath a door.

A feeling of foreboding was in the air. He knew something was on the other side of the door, something he wasn't sure he wanted to see, but he couldn't stop his progress. Not that he wanted to; Hakuro's unwanted touches were back that way. However, when he tried to slow his pace, the floor began to speed quickly beneath him, and the viscous liquid swept the space behind him, leaving nowhere to return to.

He heard a rushing sound following him. Glancing back, he could see small black hands beginning to form. Their forms congealing, amassing and boiling into outstretched hands, grasping for him. Suddenly, a multitude of eyes opened in the blankness with small voices calling for him. A dragon's snout jutted out of the darkness beyond the eyes, and in its teeth was his father, slumped over and dripping in the unnamed fluid.

"Still just a puppet, aren't you pipsqueak?" Envy's words growled around their dead father's mangled body. Fear rose in him, freezing him in place. The feeling climbed his spine like tiny frigid fingers. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Another figure formed in the wall of ink, replacing his elder half-brother and father, this time it was a block of a man, but his outline seemed to ripple and burn, like he was on fire.

"My key! Be my key! With that, both worlds will be mine," Hess' voice cloyed across the depths of his despair, reaching, straining to grasp hold of Ed.

Terrified of being caught, Ed turned and ran for the light, for the door, that he might be able to hide behind it. He struggled to reach it, crying out into the void of the filling emptiness. His voice chilled him, as it wasn't his; or rather, it was the voice of the frightened child he had been in a terror filled memory.

His slick childish fingers, outstretched and small, clasped the door handle. With all of his diminutive strength, he heaved the wooden obstruction out of his way and thrust it closed behind him as he felt the weight of the viscous wave hit the other side. He fell to the floor on all fours gasping for breath and clenching his eyes shut as he leaned back against the door, his legs splayed in front of him.

Goose flesh rose on his arms as he sensed something in the room with him. His leg and stump exposing his bloody price. Biting back the pain and opening his eyes slowly, Ed saw a small room filled with stone walls and a paved floor. In the cold flickering firelight from the wall sconce, he noted chalk was drawn on the floor in an array he knew, a sketch he never should have drawn.

Even with the fire flickering above him, he felt no warmth in this place. Next to him lay a set of clothes, abandoned and empty. A stinging and sharp agony radiated through the edges of his missing limb. When he looked down, he witnessed blood cascading from his bloody stump of a leg, or what was left of it. He screamed out in his pain, whipping his head away from the gruesome sight.

His breath quickened along with his heart beat as he realized that he was now facing another grotesque sight. For a brief moment, he thought no matter the cost, he was near his forbidden goal. His excitement raged inside him at the abominable hope they had paid enough to have their reward.

Their mother.

The metallic taste of blood, now fully recognized, filled the air as he took in the creature heaving its organs up and down, its ribs fully exposed, its gnarled face directed at him. Pleading eyes locked with his as he realized that the monster in the room wasn't the poor misshapen, inverted creature in the corner, but himself.

"Didn't you know? There's no such thing as equivalent exchange," Dante's incorporeal voice mocked him condescendingly. "You're such a child."

A bloodied and mangled inhuman hand reached out for him. It strained for him to take up the distance between them. However, a gargled voice sounded from across the room, like it was drowning in its own blood, choking on its own tissues. Ed's eyes could not be torn way from the cries as it begged him, commanded him, and challenged him between gasps.

"Ed… ward…" she coughed, spiting blood and liquids too strange to decipher. "You killed me… again… You know… you did it... Did it!" She shouted and began to claw her way towards him, death and loathing in her eyes. "Killed me… killed your… mother… again!"

Ed howled out his guilt, swinging his arms wildly into the space between them, crushing his eyes shut. "No! No! Not again! No! Mom!" His right arm began to prick. His fingers began to unravel, uncurling, and began to be devoured by nothingness. It uncoiled in peeling, agonizing ribbons until there was no arm remaining.

"Brother," Al's disembodied voice called. "Brother!" The hollow, ringing sounds of a soul bonded to armor fell on him like restraints, clasping him in place as the creature… no, his mother… crawled towards him, demanding he finish this.

"Do it! Do it! How could you?!" It yelled its conflicting assault. "Do it again! You know you have to!"

"No! I never wanted…!" Ed croaked.

"Brother!" Al's weighted words trapped him tighter.

There was no escape. No room to move. No shifting could be made to evade the slow figure approaching him with that face. Her face. It bled and gasped, sputtering and spraying blood in his face.

Ed streamed louder as it came closer.

"Brother! Ed! Ed!" Al's volume increased as Ed fought against his restraints roughly. "Ed, wake up!"

His eyes flew open instantly, meeting olive ones. His eyes burned. His face and body were soaked. Tears streamed down his scorching cheeks, cold sweat coated his skin, and Al's long arms were clasp across his body.

-8-

"It's alright, Brother, I have you. You're alright. Everything's alright. You're alright," Alphonse reassured soothingly, over and over again. "You're alright. You're alright."

Brother's breathing slowed in Alphonse's arms. After minutes of his silent reply, his tears began to dry, and his muscles slackened as he began to catch his breath.

"You're alright," Alphonse repeated on a calm loop. "You're alright."

"Yeah…" Brother breathed after a while. "Yeah, Al. I'm alright. I'm alright," he repeated back.

Alphonse gripped Brother's metal shoulder in a reassuring restraint and waited. After a while, Brother reached out his flesh hand to Alphonse's shoulder in return, gripping it tight.

"Al," Brother spoke softly, brushing his cheeks dry of sweat and tears against his arm.

"Yes?" Alphonse asked.

"Stay with me tonight?" Brother whispered in a small voice. It had been a while since he had one this bad.

"Of course, Brother," Alphonse replied gently. He repositioned himself as Brother moved over in the thin bed. Pulling the blanket over his brother's shoulder, Alphonse laid down beside him.

Alphonse's concern was heightened when he felt Brother's tears on the front of his shirt flowing anew, this time in a quiet release. Alphonse tightened his silent hold on the quivering body curled up in his arms.

Resolved, and filled with guilt, Alphonse could guess what had triggered this night terror. Having someone trying to manipulate him, or seeing someone die in front of Brother usually set off these types of dreams. He just wished his own actions, to try and give his brother space to have a normal romantic relationship, was not part of the problem. He wondered, though, if someone else had tried to manipulate his hero into doing something that would be against Edward Elric's stiff moral code. Brother hadn't had a nightmare this bad since before they'd come home to Amestris, and Alphonse was going to be damn sure to prevent any more reoccurrences.

* * *

***Fucking Ask Me***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

"Come on, Babe," "Brother," "Ed," the culprits pleaded.

"No. This is the library, and I'm working right now," Ed hissed in a whispered growl. "I'll talk to you three after work, but if you don't leave right now, I won't talk to any of you until pigs fucking fly! Ok?! Now. Leave. Me. Alone," he snarled out low between gritted teeth so he wouldn't shout aloud.

They were already attracting more attention than he wanted. Seeing a few faces peeking over book edges and the glares from the librarians, Ed walked them to the main door in restrained silent rage. The three younger blonds lowered their heads and followed him, all of them sporadically glancing at him with varying expressions of remorse.

Maybe Ed was taking this too far, but he hated being manipulated, and Al should know that better than anyone. He still couldn't believe that his little brother had been in the plot to get him and Russell in bed together… or on the floor next to the fireplace, or whatever. Ed was pissed; he felt betrayed by people who were supposed to care about him. Plus, last night's nightmare still crawled under his skin, agitating his every move, his every thought.

Closing the door in their faces with a satisfying thud, Ed turned back to the entrance full of staring patrons who, upon seeing his anger, scuttled away from him and back to their books. He crossed the main hall, fists clenched tightly, swinging his arms stiffly at his sides. Ed passed watchful patrons seated in the rows of tables that created an aisle in the center of the ground floor.

He huffed out his irritation. Ok, yes he had slept with Russell on his own, but he resented the fact that the three people he had just escorted out of the rebuilt First Branch Library had manipulated and lied to him, all to varying degrees.

Russell knew their younger brothers would give them the night to themselves if they could coordinate which place to avoid. Ed's anger ran deep at finding out that not only had Russell known about their plan but communicated to them to stay away. He was pissed that they hadn't had a frank conversation about it with _him_. If he had been involved in the conversation, he wouldn't have had a problem with the younger brothers staying at one house while Russell and he occupied the other.

'But, no,' he thought indignantly. No one consulted him in arranging his own affairs. He had a lover and two little brothers plotting against him.

And don't get him started on Al. Reaching the left steps of the dual staircases leading up to his study room, he clasped the banister's smooth dark wood harshly. Nearly cracking the handrail, he loosened his automail grip at the creak it made before heading up the stairs.

Yes, his brother was trying to do something for him, but could the damn brat just let him live his life at his own pace? Couldn't Ed just date and sleep with who he wanted, when he wanted, on his own time table?

Yes, Al had duped him into being alone with Russell for the night, but it would have happened in its own time. They had gone on a date before without any interference, hadn't they? Granted Ed had been eating and theorizing the whole time, but he'd only had a few weeks to prepare a year's worth of research. Things were clearly different now that he was done with his assessment and that damn tour. He had more time all around.

And yes, he had slept with Russell when they'd had the chance, but it wasn't like they couldn't get the privacy. It had more to do with it being the right time and nothing else.

Damn it. Could people just stop pulling his strings already? He hated feeling like a puppet. That was how the Germans had infiltrated Amestris, and he couldn't be allowed to forget that.

"Fullmetal," a familiar voice called to him across the second story landing that overlooked the bottom floor.

"Fuck," Ed cursed low to himself as he cringed. Walking towards him was the most manipulative bastard of all, not that Ed expected anything else from his CO after all these years, but still. "Yeah, what do want?"

"A 'hello' would suffice. It's only polite since you've never saluted me in your life," Mustang chided playfully.

Ed was glad that their previous banter had returned, but right now, he didn't think he could handle it.

"'Hello, General Bastard.' Can I go now?" Ed toned, annoyed.

"What happened with your brother and the Tringhams? The whole place is a-twitter with suspense," Mustang questioned with a smirk of false intrigue.

Ed looked over his shoulder and groaned. The number of people starting at him over their books or around shelves had increased exponentially.

"Heard it was about a plan that went haywire…" his CO fished.

"You really don't want to know," Ed carefully gave the man an out, but looked down at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed just the same. He really didn't want to talk to Mustang about his flailing love life on the second floor landing of the First Branch National Library on display for everyone to see. It was just too embarrassing, awkward, and weird.

Mustang raised his eyebrow but didn't say another word.

"Ok," Ed conceded when his CO didn't. "Just remember I warned you." Indicating for Mustang to follow, he took off for his reserved study room. Uncapped pens, strewn papers and open books were scattered all over the work station when he walked in. Stacks of texts and loose notes also covered the floor, but Ed didn't care. He would clean it up before he left.

As he led Mustang into the room, he knew he was going to regret this. Closing the door behind the amused brunet, Ed turned around. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out in a rush, low enough for only Mustang to hear the humiliating truth.

"They set up a plan to get me to sleep with Russell," he breathed out deeply.

Ed's face burned as he speared the ground with his eyes, and Mustang stood as still as a tree in the dead of winter.

"I told you…" Ed relinquished blame before the General spoke over him.

"And it worked," Mustang flatly stated more than asked, cutting him off. "I doubt you would be this upset if it hadn't."

"No comment," Ed mumbled lamely.

"Did you consent?" Mustang inquired numbly, but with a subtle concern Ed was learning to see in the stiff lines of his eye and tightness in his jaw.

"Yes," he hissed under the weight of his mortification and red face.

"Were you under duress?" The concern not leaving the General's features.

"No," Ed bit out low.

"Then what's the problem, Fullmetal?" Mustang's confusion shadowed the line of his eye.

"I don't want the people I fucking care about yanking my damn chain, manipulating me into doing something I would have fucking done _willingly_ if they had bothered to _fucking ask me_ in the first place!" Ed shouted, abandoning decorum or propriety in the privacy of the small cluttered room.

"Then I should ask, will you let me review your new theoretical model on the transmutation process before you publish it? It'll save me the time and effort of 'yanking your damn chain' to assess its possible negative implications."

"Hell yes, you bastard. I was going to ask you to do that anyways."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being over dramatic in my warnings at the beginning, but I thought it fair to warn you since I rarely write the dark mirky horrors of Ed's dreams. So now that it's over, think of kittens and puppies and rainbows. Hahaha. Anyways, I love the back and forth with Ed and Roy at the end. It makes this whole chapter for me =)


	40. Chapter 40

***Deconstruction***

There were times when all Ed could do was watch.

Spring was like that. Things grew. They budded. The world woke up from its chilled sleep, and love bloomed. Or so he was told.

Never let it be said that Edward Elric followed convention.

* * *

***Brunch***

Central, Amestris, March 1920

"I'm not kidding, Russell," Ed warned with a heavy expression.

"I know, and I said I was sorry already, so can we move on now? I didn't mean to hurt you and I won't do it again. I won't even try to surprise you with anything…" Russell pleaded. "I just want to get back to where we were."

Ed pursed his lips. He knew if he couldn't let it go that this would be the end of their budding affair, but… uhg. He was just going to have to get over it.

For the past week, he had been hounded by 'journalists' from _The Amestrian_ , the celebrity magazine that debuted Ed's relationship status to the nation at the end of his otherwise professional press conference. Somehow they had gotten wind of his public dispute in the library. They and the three alchemists who were to blame for the whole mess had been on him about what he would do about Russell.

So here the two of them were at a neutral café to talk things out on a Saturday over brunch. It was an outdoor bistro that served ceramic cups full of every type of coffee and tea known to Amestris along with a few specialty sandwiches. The exposed brick walls were lightly covered in ivy. The dark wood tables and chairs stood in contrast to the cream plaster that stuck to the rest of the building; the effect was warm and welcoming.

Their sweet waitress was a woman in her late 40's. She had seated them with a comforting smile, and asked their drink orders as soon as they arrived, with a 'Do you know what you want?' Ed had almost replied, 'No, that's why we're here,' but decided she had meant to ask about his order and not his love life. The couple had asked for a moment to decide, and she had obliged, leaving them to their conversation.

"Ok, Russell. You get why I freaked out, right?" Ed asked the pale blond across the small circular table from him.

"You hate when people manipulate you. I get it," Russell assured him with an honest face but an edge of impatience.

"It's just that when I was searching for The Stone and ever since then, everyone has tried to take advantage of me. They always tried to make me their tool, to make me what they needed me to be for them. The homunculi, Dante, Thule…"

"And The General," Russell added as if Ed had forgotten.

"Yeah, even him," Ed agreed. "The point is, I just want us to be ourselves, and not who others want us to be."

"I understand, Babe. That's exactly how I feel. Every guy I've ever dated wanted something else from me. This is why we work, Babe. You get it. You just want me, not just some part of me, not just my mind, body, or research. You want me."

"Heh. I'm glad you get it. I'm sorry I over reacted. It's just a touchy subject…"

"What do you mean? Is there something else?" Russell wanted clarification.

"It's how Hohen…" Ed stumbled lowly, "it's how my father died."

"W-what?!" Russell sputtered in surprised.

"Something Envy said to me before The Invasion. 'Still a puppet, huh, Pipsqueak?' Those words still haunt me. It's like he knew that I couldn't help but play into other people's hands, and it cost my father his life."

"Oh, Edward…" Russell refuted taking up Ed's hands, their fingers intertwining. "Babe, that's not true at all. You do what you think is right, regardless what other people have planned. Really, you are the best person I know."

Ed smiled and gently squeezed soft hands at those words. He didn't believe them, but he appreciated that Russell said them all the same.

Their waitress, brunette with white peppered hair, returned just then.

"So, are you ready to try again, or do you need more time to decide?" Peppered Hair asked with a warm smile, taking out a pen from behind her ear to take their order.

"Yeah," Ed directed to Russell. "I think I'm ready to try again."

Light violet-grey eyes shone bright at the admission.

* * *

***Shopping***

Central, Amestris, April 1920

"That red one by Thomas Aquinas, and this one too," Russell placed another alchemic tome on the counter, and the old man with white streaked hair behind it added the other text to the stack of rare books.

"And how will you be paying, young man?" The shop keeper inquired with a smile and clasped hands, looking for a missing pocket watch on Russell's hip.

"Please add it to The Fullmetal Alchemist's tab," Russell ordered, looking over at an indulgent Ed, a look in his violet-grey eyes that said he was loving the embarrassment of being spoiled.

"Yeah, s'alright, George, just don't do it unless I'm actually here," Ed told the shocked bookseller.

"Hey, that was only the one time," Russell replied defensively, gleefully picking up his new purchases, as he thought back to the last time he had pretended to be Edward Elric so many years ago.

"Yeah, and it also almost got you killed," Ed returned the volley. "Being me isn't all it's cracked up to be," Ed explained to his boyfriend with a sad smirk.

* * *

***Front Page News***

Central, Amestris, April 1920

"I can't believe you did that!" Russell accused, shouting from across Ed's empty living room, Al pretending not to hear the argument from upstairs huddled with their three cringing cats.

"He's my CO…" Ed tried to reason with his pissed off boyfriend, again.

"Exactly! Edward, you can't just expect me to be ok with it!" Russell yelled, flailing his arms.

"It's not like anything happened. I just told him what the problem was at the library after you three left. Would you have preferred I told him in front of everybody?" Ed demanded, flinging his arms out wide from the other side of the room.

"No, but you shouldn't've taken him to a private room, even at a library, and on top of that, you went on a two-week long trip with him. Alone!" Hollered the hurt younger blond, almost breaking into tears at the perceived betrayal.

"For work, ordered by the Führer, and we didn't even talk to each other much until the last night in North City. And both of those were work related," Ed tried to calm Russell down. "It's not like I did it on purpose…"

"But Edward, you have feelings for the guy. You should have told me…" Russell accused, his hurt coloring his words while an accusatory finger pointed at the golden hued alchemist.

"I tried, and you said you didn't care…" Ed reminded his lover. He hadn't been trying to hide anything, in fact he'd made it a point to say something.

"Well, sure when I thought it was some random guy, not your boss that you see every day…" Russell explained in pained words.

"Exactly, he's my boss, Russell," Ed took slow steps as he crossed the room slowly, approaching Russell as if he were a wounded animal, but also trying to contain his growing irritation. "Nothing's going to happen with Mustang, so you can calm down already."

"But do you still love…?" Russell began to ask.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing's going to happen!" Ed's temper was fighting for supremacy as he cut off the question.

"You do! How could you say it doesn't matter?" Asked Russell, even more hurt now, turning away and curling in on himself.

"Just let it go already, damn it!" Ed was losing it. "I'm with you now…"

"Only because he doesn't want you!" Russell exclaimed with tears becoming streams down his face as he hugged himself at the harsh reality of his statement.

"…" Ed's mouth opened to refute it, but no words came out. His stomach clenched at the truth of Mustang's rejection, and he felt like throwing up at Russell's accusation.

"Seriously, Edward?! What the hell?!" Anger tore at Russell's heart, as his sad tears became ones of fury. He stormed off for the hall towards the door, ready to leave.

"Wait! Russell, come back. I…" Ed chased after him. "I really do like you…"

"Look, I just need some time to cool down," Russell claimed, wiping his face and trying to calm down. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Russell, wait," Ed said, grabbing hold of Russell's arm. "I honestly don't know what to do about it. I'm stuck in the military until March."

"Then transfer!" Russell cried, yanking his captured arm free.

"I can't," Ed replied low as if apologizing, looking at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why not? Why can't you just let him go?!" Russell appealed with new tears coming down his cheeks.

"No… It's not that… It's …" he exhaled. "Grumman refused all the other Generals' requests to let me," Ed admitted. He was completely embarrassed as he continued to avoid Russell's glare and absently shield the nape of his neck.

"Seriously?" He sounded as if he was unsure if he believed that excuse or if Ed was trying to lie to him. "Well, I guess it pays to be the Fullmetal Alchemist," Russell said sarcastically, crossing his arms and turning away from the man in front of him, folding in on himself again.

"Come on, don't be like that," Ed pleaded, hand outstretched and stepping across the space between them. Slowly, Ed wrapped his arms around Russell from behind, placing his forehead on Russell's shoulder. "I'm with you because I want to be. No one's making me. I want to be with you, Russell. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it if I can."

"I just want you," Russell sighed and turned around in Ed's embrace to face his lover. Resting their foreheads together, he exhaled deeply, the fight in him leaving.

"I want you, too," Ed promised, hugging Russell tightly.

* * *

***I…***

Central, Amestris, May 1920

"But that's who you are. Why make a big deal out of it?" Russell asked.

"Can't I just be Ed? Why do I have to be Fullmetal with you, too? Why can't we just go to dinner as Ed and Russell? Why does it have to be The Fullmetal Alchemist and his date?" he asked his boyfriend.

Russell was always doing this. He was always taking advantage of Ed's title, getting seated at full restaurants, buying books at exclusive State Alchemist book shops, and pushing for Ed to use his military name for all it was worth.

"We can be us, Babe, but when you have access to something that others don't, isn't it your duty to take advantage of the opportunity?" Pale violet-grey eyes asked with conviction.

"I thought you wanted to date me not my title," Ed accused, feeling used. "I don't want to use my name for special privileges."

"I do want you, Babe, but what is so bad about getting extra benefits?" Russell asked honestly.

"Not interested. If I really need something, I can get it myself without some shop keeper bending over backwards for me so he can say 'Fullmetal shops here.'" Ed complained.

"So what if he says that, so long as it's true. What harm does it do?" Russell prodded, trying to convince Ed for the hundredth time that using his name was not a bad thing. "It'd probably mean higher sales for his store."

"And while that's great for him, it means I have less and less of a private life. I'm a private person, Russell, or hadn't you noticed?"

"So doing press conferences, public speaking tours, and blowing up buildings during missions. That's your idea of private?" Russell spat, getting irritated now that his boyfriend was questioning how well he knew him.

"Those were work related, not in my private life. And the press conference and tour weren't my idea," Ed defended. Fucking Mustang and old man Grumman; he'd done his job doing those publicity stunts, but it had chaffed him. He hadn't wanted the attention at all, but got stuck with it anyways.

"But Babe…" Russell whined, pleading with his violet-grey eyes.

"No, Russell. I want to keep my private life private, and my work life separate. Is that so hard to understand?" Ed demanded as he combed his bangs back with his fingers in his exasperation.

"So that's how you keep us straight? Me over here and The General over there? Separating out what you show the world? Newspaper stories and the public eye on you and him, but no mention of me or our relationship? It's like you don't even want to acknowledge me!"

"What are you talking about? Everyone who matters to me knows about us. Isn't that what's important? And who said anything about Mustang, anyways? I'm talking about my private life," Ed crinkled his forehead trying to understand his boyfriend's turn in their fight.

"And I'm not good enough to show the world I'm your boyfriend, is that it? But you can be on the front page of the newspaper next to him?" Violet-grey eyes blazed wildly as he slammed a folded newspaper down onto the coffee table between them.

The front page news covered the successful capture of a violent group of 'scientists,' calling themselves 'The Collective.' The crazy fucks had been trying to conduct illegal research: using Red Stones to make human chimeras. Thankfully, the paper did not disclose the nature of the illicit activities. In the center of the paper, above the fold, was a large photo of Ed and the Bastard evacuating a crumbling building.

Internal Security had received a concerned inquiry from Major General Bell in Labor over unauthorized alchemical experimentation in town, so Mustang assigned the investigation to Ed. Havoc had been paired with him on this mission in the Lab District of Central. After preliminary night surveillance of the third floor lab showed evidence of Red Stones and chimeric research materials, Ed and Havoc had called in the rest of the team.

By the time Mustang's men arrived and were organized, the building was full of civilians as well as 'The Collective.' When the offenders realized they'd been discovered, they tried to bury their research and the rest of the building. The team had been able to clear the edifice while Ed had reinforced it. He'd strengthened it enough that he and his CO had been able to charge in and make the arrests. It never occurred to Ed to look out for photojournalists on the prowl for a good story.

Ed groaned. They'd been having this fight for weeks. No matter what he did, some fuck heads from the newspapers were ready to snap a photo, but it was always when he was on duty and that excluded Russell. Ed wasn't sure what bothered his boyfriend more, that Ed was on the front page or that Russell wasn't. And now that they'd caught a shot of him and Mustang together, it was the picture that broke Russell's back.

"Russell! I told you, that's for work, and nothing's going on with him. We work together; that's it. What am I supposed to do? Make sure that anytime someone takes a photo of me that he isn't in the picture or that you are?"

"That would be a start," Russell stared straight at him and answered flatly.

"Seriously, Russell?" Ed questioned his boyfriend's sanity. "I'd go crazy if I had to watch out for every shutter flash. Look. I have to be Fullmetal for work, and that includes Mustang, but when I'm with you, I just want to be Ed. Aren't I enough? Do I really need to have _The Amestrian_ publish a cover story about you and me for you to feel secure in our relationship?"

"Maybe if you didn't pose with the man you love on the front cover of my morning paper I'd feel better about it," Russell shot.

"Damn it, Russell, I already told you, I didn't do it on purpose," Ed huffed in exasperation. "That building collapsing was my priority, not if someone was taking a picture of me while I was helping those people escape."

"And you still don't deny that you love him," Russell growled as he turned away from Ed, obviously hurt.

"… But I want to be with you," Ed said looking at the ground. What else could he say? He thought they had already settled that fight.

"… And as much as I want that to be enough, it isn't." Russell exhaled. "You may want to be with me, but it's not enough. You don't love me like I love you. You and I are too different. We see the world too differently. You're fine being in the shadows, but the world knows you belong on the stage. I just wish you wanted to share it with me."

"What is that supposed to mean? What's not enough? Russell, don't you see that I do care about you?"

"Exactly. You care but you don't love me," Russell accused. "I don't just want one piece of you," he toned low and sad, almost broken beneath the heat of his anger. "I want it all. I want 'Edward' and 'Fullmetal.' I want to have you sweep me off my feet in public, to not hold back, to not be afraid to show the world how we feel about each other. I want you to love me the way I love you. Don't you get it? I want all of you, Edward," he said with tears in his eyes, meeting Ed's gaze then taking a breath and backing away. "But I just realized something," he breathed out, letting his agitation build, his fist clench, and his angry wry smirk pierce Ed's chest. "He's got too much of you for me to have any more."

"What are you talking about?" Ed demanded, trying to understand where this argument was going around the lump in his throat. "I'm not enough as just 'Ed?' You want the lime light too? Fine. Take it. I don't want it. And what do you mean he has too much of me? I'm trying to give you all of me that is really 'me;' 'Fullmetal' is just someone I have to be for work."

"You're wrong. You're both 'Edward' and 'Fullmetal,' neither is complete without the other. You need both. And he's part of the package. I know you promised to help him reach his goal, and as much as I love you, Edward, I can't compete with that. I know you well enough to know you'll do it; you'll help him become Führer. You can't help but beat the odds and finish what you start. You did it with Al and you'll do it with The General. I just wish I could be with you when you do."

"What do you mean Russell? Of course you can. We're together. We can…"

"No, Edward. We're not. Not anymore. I can't do it anymore. I can't watch from the sidelines as you keep trying to convince yourself that we can be together when you're in love with him. It just hurts too much."

"Wait, Russell," Ed pleaded for him to stop. "Don't do this. Don't give up on me, on us."

"Edward, stop. I can't… I love you, but stop lying to yourself. You love him… and I just can't do this anymore," he sighed, hunching his shoulders. "I'll have Fletcher bring me anything here that's mine."

"But…" He stalled, feeling the floor being pulled out from under him.

"Edward…" Russell's tear filled face reflected Ed's pain too, and Ed finally understood how much he was hurting the pale blond with every false stance that they could be together with Mustang in his heart.

"Russell… I…," Ed breathed out, his heart aching at the depth of his wretchedness. He knew it from the start, but he had hoped that he could be happy. And now he had hurt Russell in his attempt. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," he said as he walked out of Ed's front door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. Not that anyone should be surprised by this, and everyone saw it coming, but yeah. Here it is... the end of Russ/Ed *runs away so as to not get hit* We will see Russell again though!


	41. Chapter 41

***A New Discovery***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

Even after only one week of undercover work, coming home to his house had a new appeal. Of course Ed had to stop and give his report to his CO before he could actually go home, but that was fine. The sooner he gave his report, the sooner he could go home and see his brother.

Ed made his way to Central Command. Mustang had seen that he was starting to go stir crazy, or maybe Hawkeye had said something to him, but the General had sent Ed to investigate some odd rumors that were beginning to circulate Intelligence. Whatever the reason, it had given both Ed and Mustang the excuse to test if Ed could go back in the field beyond just surveillance, like watching those dumb shits, The Collective.

A new problem was spreading in the slums of Central. Sure, everyone pretended that they didn't see that part of the city, but everyone knew where to avoid going after dark. The problem was, people there were starting to disappear.

Turns out that people in The Row had heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist, but paid the name no mind as it didn't impact them in the slightest. That is until Ed had saved a girl from the immoral testing that was going on in the warehouse district.

Some crazy scientists had gotten the idea to use the less desirable of society to assess a new substance. It wasn't a drug but a toxic concoction that Ed had recognized immediately. It was ground-up Red Stones. The same Stones that had been fed to the homunculi to sustain them. The same Stones that had been forged from Red Water, like those made by the Tringhams in their misguided youth.

It hurt to think of Russell now. They had only broken up last month. Maybe that's why Hawkeye had been keeping her watch over him. She always knew when something was left unsaid. It explained why she might have felt sorry enough for him to help get him out of the office.

While in the field, he had been furious to find that the Stones existed there, and it had taken all of his willpower not to just run in and destroy them all. Ed had been more determined to track them back to their source than the impulse to destroy them without thinking of the consequences. It had taken days, but he had done it, and now he was headed to HQ to tell Mustang about a new discovery, a new threat.

Ed came to the Office of Interior with a grim satisfaction. He had been right, but he hadn't wanted to be. He strolled in and nodded 'hello' to the team. It was the end of the day, but he needed to acknowledge them. On assignment, he'd missed his days at his desk listening to their dirty jokes. He'd missed watching the men bet on ordinary goings-on, but most of all he'd missed the comradery.

Ed had left Al at home. His younger brother had started summer classes and was busy studying most nights with Fletcher anyways, but he had felt his brother's absence. Ed had missed the team. He had also missed having someone waiting for him besides his brother. He had missed Russell, but more so, he had missed the idea of someone who cared about him and not what he could offer him or her. And Ed had realized that he was tired of doing things on his own, of being on his own, and of being alone.

With a weak smirk, he thought about kicking the door to Mustang's office open, but he was too exhausted. Instead, he knocked.

"Come in," Mustang called through the door.

He could feel the team watching him. Ed knew they were just as surprised as Mustang's face said he was that Ed had knocked. Whatever. He was too tired to care. Ed entered and closed the door behind him.

"Hey," he said. "I got it done, but you're not going to like it any more than I do."

-8-

Roy looked at the tired Fullmetal and noticed how much older the young man looked. This had obviously been a tough case, and Roy needed to be prepared to hear it.

"Want some coffee before you start?"

"I'd rather have a double of whiskey," his Colonel answered honestly which surprised the General, "but I just want to give my report and go home, Mustang. Can I give you my written tomorrow?"

"If you promise to start at the beginning, go in chronological order, and leave nothing out," Roy bargained, linking his fingers and leaning back in his desk chair.

"Fine," Fullmetal exhaled without any venom. Obviously fatigued, he flopped down into his customary seat on Roy's couch. "Rumors were circulating about people in The Row going missing, so Intel handed it off to Interior to handle, and you gave it to me," the blond summed up the chain of custody for the case. "Thanks, by the way, for taking pity on me and getting me out of the office," Fullmetal smiled a weak grin at him. "But after this case," he continued, becoming somber again, "I think I want to stay in for a while or at least get a second person to come with me on cases. It's too taxing by myself."

Roy sat at his desk taking in all that his agent said. Fullmetal had never thanked him for anything work related, had never asked to do paperwork, and had _never_ asked for help. Roy couldn't remember the blond ever being so tired, both mentally and physically during a mission report before. He'd only seen Fullmetal worse off once, and that had been in a dream, across dimensions. Roy steeled himself for bad news.

"Well, anyways. I went undercover, leaving my pocket watch at home with my brother." Fullmetal settled back, closed his eyes and began his tale. "I dyed my hair mud brown, transmuted some rags to wear, and headed off to The Row. For the first few days, no one wanted to talk to me because they didn't know me. After about the fourth day, a man I had talked to on Day 2 went missing. His name was Earl."

* * *

"Hey man, chu seen Earl? Saw chu talkin' to 'im a day ago o'so. What chu talk about?" A dirty group of men had approached Ed. The speaker had worn a long and tangled beard, but his eyes were a piercing blue.

"Naw, man; haven't seen 'im since. Just asked 'im if he'd seen anything weird's all," Ed had mimicked the speech pattern of The Row. "Heard some weird shit been happenin' 'roun' here. Why? Wha's been doin'"

"Aw, man. Earl be missin,'" Blue Eyes had claimed.

"Wha' chu mean weird shit?" another grubby looking man with a tattered dirty shirt and shallow cheeks had asked.

"Heard people been goin' missin', man," Ed had worked his tongue.

"Serious?" Shallow Cheeks had questioned.

"Yeah, man, people been disappearin' an' shit," Ed had prompted. "Where's Earl's usuals?" he had asked Earl's friends about the missing man's common haunts.

"He likes the bridge, man, but he ain' been 'ere since day before yes'erday," Blue Eyes had said, becoming more concerned.

"He been on anythin'?" Ed had asked.

"Naw, man, Earl's clean. He been gettin' clean fer a'while," the third companion with missing teeth had told Ed.

"Who been his connect? Maybe we should see 'em. Check if he been seen," Ed had asked if they could go see one of Earl's old drug dealers.

"Shoo', man, I said Earl's been clean." Missing Teeth had been offended.

"Yeah, but where else chu gon' look?" Ed had inquired.

In the end, they had taken him to check if Earl's previous drug dealers had seen him, but none had. Ed had noticed a young teen in a group of pickpockets had taken an interest in them. The dark haired girl had reminded Ed of Mustang with those deep and searching black irises. Earl's friends had decided to go look for him on their own, but would let Ed know if they found him.

That night, the young brunette girl, maybe 16 but who had looked 12 due to malnutrition, had kicked the box Ed was sleeping in.

"Chu lookin' fer Earl?" The teen Ed had seen earlier had whispered to him while looking around nervously.

"Yeah, who's askin', man" Ed had said trying to shake the sleep from his tired brain while staying in character.

"He been taken," the hushed voice had asserted.

"Where to?" Ed had popped up then.

"Down by 'em warehouses, man" the girl scratched her arm while keeping her glance all around, waiting for something to jump out and get them. Her nerves had put Ed on alert.

"Tell me 'bout it," Ed had demanded.

"Can't, but I can show chu" the girl had promised.

"Alrigh', le's go," Ed had climbed out of his makeshift cardboard housing. "Wha's yer name?"

"Mary," the teen had told him over her shoulder as they made their way through the dark streets out of The Row and to the warehouse district. "And yer tha' alchemis', righ'? The one's come back from dunno where?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Ed had wondered, dropping the fake accent; obviously, his disguise had not been enough to hide his identity.

"Know'd it was chu 'cause of yer eyes," she had confided. "Chu migh' no' 'member me, but chu took care of me once when I's little. Mama and I'd been comin' back home on a train from Eas' City and chu stopped some anarchis's. Called yerself my big brother and told me chu'd protec' me."

Ed remembered the curious little girl that Al had been afraid might have thought he was scary in his armor. She had smiled at them happily with a woman he had thought was her mother or grandmother. Terrorists had tried to take the train that day, but Ed, Al, and Hughes had kept that from happening.

"I remember you. We were so glad you were ok afterwards," he had told her. Then looking the girl over once more, he asked, "Why are you living in The Row? What happened to your mom?" Ed had had a feeling he knew, but couldn't help but ask.

" _Invaders,_ " had been all the answer he had gotten.

Mary had led him to a building in the deserted end of the warehouse complex. One corner of the building had been backed up against a hillside, so the other two sides faced them. It gave the advantage to anyone that might have been on guard.

The teen had pointed out a rear door along the hillside, and they edged their way to it. Though the windows had been covered in paint on the inside, one pane hadn't fully been coated, and Ed had seen the sterile setup of medical equipment. Expensive stuff. On one to the beds had been a man Ed had assumed was Earl.

A man had come into the room right in front of the window, forcing Mary and Ed to hide. Once the coast had been clear again, they had looked through the glass. They had seen the man administer something into Earl's arm that had shown red in the light. The homeless man had pleaded before his words became screams of terror and pain.

Ed had to try and restrain himself. He had known what the substance was the moment he had seen it. He had also known what it could do. Ed had turned to Mary, grabbed her hand and sprinted back to a safe location. He had thought he'd be damned if he couldn't save another innocent life. Unfortunately, he had been too late to save Earl.

"Wha' chu doin'?" the girl had gasped as they came to stop, catching her breath.

"I don't want you anywhere near there. That stuff they are filling Earl with is bad news, and I don't want you mixed up in it. You got to get out of here. I can handle the rest," Ed had urged.

"But chu ain' go' no help! How's chu gonna save 'im if yer all alone? Le' me help chu,"

"You already have helped, Mary," Ed had promised, not wanting to tell her that Earl was most likely already dead. "Besides, I'm pretty good on my own," he had smiled his charming grin at her, hoping it would be enough to keep her away.

"But…" she had tried to press her case.

"No 'buts,' Mary," he had given her a genuine smirk. "I got this. Trust me, just like you did when you were little. Let your big brother, Ed, handle this, alright?"

She had just looked at him.

"Trust me," he had smiled and left her there.

Ed had returned to the warehouse to find that Earl was silent. The men standing around Earl's body had been taking notes and making comments about how this latest patient had responded, but Ed hadn't been able to make it all out.

He had waited for the lights to go out and the men in white coats to leave out the door along the far wall. Once he had made it into the building, Ed had begun to poke around. Surprisingly, he had found all of their progress to be clearly documented for posterity. They had been given Red Stones to infuse people with to assess their responses. Even the equipment they had used was state of the art, which only meant that whoever had been bankrolling this little operation had money. A lot of it.

After reading through the files in the office, he had gone to investigate the other spaces being used. In the back room, Ed had been horrified to find two dozen dead bodies stored in an ice locker. All of them had documentation that told the same story: they had all been injected with varying degrees of a substance made of Red Stones.

"Find something interesting?" an amused voice had toned.

Ed had missed the entrance of a thin man with a cliché handlebar mustache.

"A few thin's ac'ually," Ed had said in his new accent with bravado while he sized up this man.

"Oh, now that's too bad. If you hadn't, you would have saved yourself their fate, but seeing as you've stumbled upon something that isn't ready yet, you'll just have to help us out," the man had threatened waving a hand signal into the air. Suddenly Ed had been surrounded with regimented brutes in black.

Right before they could make their coordinated attempt to grab him, Mary had swung wide the back door and called out, "This way!"

In the confusion of the moment, all eyes had gone to her and Ed had made a run for the open door. They had been chased through a winding alleyway between buildings before he had been able to get enough space between them to transmute a false wall. When the coast had been clear, he and Mary had made their way back to The Row and his makeshift cardboard home.

He had been furious that she had followed him, and she had been stubbornly obstinate that he should be grateful for the save.

"You could have been captured!" he had complained.

"Same as chu!" she had thrown out the rejoinder.

"I've been in much worse scrapes than that," he had told her. It was true, but that hadn't meant he wasn't glad for the help. "Thanks, but now they know your face, too. Mary, you have to lay low until I can get this handled, ok?"

"I can 'ake care o' myself," she had glared at him.

"Sure, sure," Ed had placated. "Just promise me you won't be careless. These men are smart and well-funded. That makes them even more dangerous. Promise me you'll be safe," he had pleaded, worried that he had saved her once only to inadvertently draw her into another dangerous situation.

"Yeah, alrigh'," she had grudgingly agreed before leaving his side into the darkness.

He had spent the next two days dodging the too-clean men, conspicuously asking around for him. It had eaten at him that he had been unable to save Earl and that there were so many that had already fallen victim to this new foe's experiments.

He had feared that the more time he spent running from his would-be captures, the more unsuspecting residents of The Row would fall. The day after his run in with Handlebar, he had been able to get clear of his pursuers, and make it back to the warehouse. He had also been afraid it would be boxed up and cleared out, but nothing had changed.

So, they hadn't known who he was or they would have taken off by now. Well, that had been good. Or, at least that's what he had thought until he saw a new body strapped to the table Earl had been killed on. This one had been a young brunette girl he recognized, and his stomach had dropped. Mary.

Ed had snuck back in using the route he and Mary had escaped through the last time he had been here. This time, he had needed to make sure that no one else died due to his inaction.

He had alchemically closed all the doors behind him as he progressed through the building. No one was going to get away. He had crept through the back rooms, making sure he had disabled anyone he had seen. The whole time, he had kept his cool as he worked his way to the front area and Mary.

As black clad security men had come at him, and before they had raised the alarm, he had incapacitated them. One by one they had fallen, and he had felt slightly unnerved by how easy this felt. After taking down a few white coated pencil pushers, Ed had made it to the large open area with the medical layout. He had not seen Handlebar Mustache, and had been getting nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ed had tiptoed over to Mary, who had still been breathing, but had seemed groggy. She had begun to struggle until he was in her eye line. He had put his finger over his lips so she could take in that it was him and to keep quiet. He had begun unhooking her from the machinery, and had almost been done when a low voice had sounded behind him. It seemed Handlebar Mustache had been watching Ed's rescue from a dark corner.

"Very kind of you to come to us, young man. My men were having a hard time finding you, so we thought a little bait would help bring you in," Handlebar Mustache had said condescendingly.

"Well, that saves me time tracking you down," Ed had replied as he had finished unbuckling Mary's restraints while still facing the thin man. He had checked that she was unsteadily sitting up and getting off of the bed. Ed had placed himself between her and Handlebar. "By the way, do you have a name?"

Mustache had smiled wide under his well waxed crumb catcher, and had been unperturbed by Ed's attitude or unaccented Amestrian. Ed had hoped there weren't any more surprises, but with his luck the last few days, that would have been unlikely.

"My name should be inconsequential to a street rat like you, but if it makes you feel better to know, it is Jacobs," he had waved his hand dismissively in front of him, and a wall behind a medical screen had opened. A team of 8 men wearing black had come up behind Jacobs with military precision. "Take him," Jacobs had ordered.

Ed had moved first, clapping his hands, turning the cement floor into quicksand. Their surprised faces had made him smile, but it hadn't lasted long. He hadn't caught them all; only half of them had fallen when their feet had pushed into the malleable ground. The second wave of men had attacked, either jumping over their comrades or leaping off to the side and making their way to Ed.

He had been able to punch a square jawed man into a thick man with green eyes then had kicked both another bulky figure and a slim giant with a roundhouse kick. However, his turn left his back open to Jacobs who had not been opposed to getting his hands dirty, hitting him across the back with a metal instrument tray. Square Jaw, at his left, had then been able to punch Ed across his cheek before he had recovered.

Ed's balance had been thrown, but he had stepped out of Bulky's reach when another punch had been flung his way, this time from the right. He had used his momentum to knock the wind out of Green Eyes, flattening him to the floor, but not before the man had lunged at him with a knife, shredding his shirt. One down.

Ed had caught, then swung, Bulky into the wall. However, Bulky had ripped his torn sleeve as he fell, out cold. Two down. To keep loose threads from catching in his automail, Ed had pulled the remains of the fabric off. He rounded on Slim Giant knocking him unconscious with a quick jab-jab-cross combination to the jaw. Three down. Then he had leapt into the air, catching Square Jaw under his chin with an instant knock out. Four down.

He had crossed the room back to Mary's grunting sounds. Jacobs had been pulling her towards the secret corridor behind the wall the moonlighting soldiers had come through. Ed jumped across the flailing men still stuck in the pliable floor; he had clapped to still the moving quicksand, restraining the remaining men.

Ed had gotten in front of the opening before Jacobs could. Clapping his hands again, he had alchemically sealed it, leaving Jacob to snarl in frustration. When Ed had turned around to gloat, he had stopped cold. Jacobs had been holding a syringe full of the Red Stone mixture against Mary's neck.

"An alchemist who doesn't need transmutation circles and a prosthetic metal arm? Well, it looks like the Fullmetal Alchemist lives up to his reputation," Jacobs had hissed angrily.

"Huh, that's nice," Ed had tilted his head and had raised an eyebrow, "but can't say I've heard of you, Jacobs."

"Well…" the man had faltered, "you've been gone."

'Guess I hit his ego,' Ed had thought to himself as he smirked.

"Was I supposed to know?" he had poked at the man's pride as he slowly side-stepped to get closer to Mary. "There are so many petty criminals and low level 'scientist' nut jobs, you must have gotten lost in the list of crazies."

"Don't lump me in with those idiots!" Jacobs had yelled, not noticing Ed's advance. "I have standards and am working on something that is going to change the face of this country! How dare you presume to know?!" Jacobs had begun unraveling.

"Well, it couldn't be that amazing, or else you'd be working for the State," Ed had taunted, stepping closer again, baiting Jacobs to give Ed something on the military style muscle he had at his command.

"Who says I'm not?" Jacobs' high pitched voice had snapped. "Who do you think paid for such fine equipment?" Jacobs had comforted himself as he reasoned with arrogance and bravado.

"Who in their right mind would pay for this? Do you really think I would believe the State would fund such a stupid project?" Ed had pushed for more information.

"I'll have you know, top officials of the Amestrian military are very impressed with my progress! Just because you aren't intelligent enough to understand," Jacobs had tried to insult him. With one final step, Ed had lunged for the syringe and the heedless Jacobs.

The 'scientist' had been caught across the chest with Ed's automail, and they had tumbled backwards while Mary had fallen to the side. The syringe had landed in Jacobs arm with the impact. To Ed's intense surprise, after Jacobs had realized this, he had pushed the plug down, filling his own veins with the cruel substance with a smile on his face.

Ed had scrambled backwards in horror. Jacobs had begun laughing hysterically.

"It's working… it's working, Fullmetal! Now you'll see! Now they'll all see!" He had yelled as he had risen to a standing position.

Jacobs had begun laughing uncontrollably, and then his body had begun to go rigid and then had begun to twitch. The disturbing scene had then grown more grotesque as his body had convulsed wildly in sharper and more jolting movements, sending him back to the floor. Flesh pounded into the cement floor in a wet plat-spat-slap noise that had made Ed's stomach curl. Jacobs had writhed there with spasms so hard he had begun to smash his own bones against the pavement, breaking them. Finally, with a deafening snap, he had cracked his own neck against the hard surface.

* * *

"I swear Mustang, these cases seem to just get worse," the blond on his couch exhaled. "Anyways, I had a squad of your men take Jacobs' muscle and the lab assistants I had sequestered into custody quietly along with their medical equipment and research notes. We need to figure out who they are, and who hired them. I'm sure the goons are at least ex-military, though."

"And the girl?" Roy asked ready for the outcome.

"I checked her into Central Gen. Mary had a few bruises and was being treated for malnutrition and dehydration, but she should recover. My real worry is what Jacobs said. We have a problem, and of course it's a new fucking conspiracy with the State at the head. Damn it, I just wanted to get out in the field, not be mired down by another bullshit scheme," Fullmetal complained sliding miserably onto his back and putting his feet up on the couch.

Roy nodded at the truth. There was a new game afoot; now he had to figure out which one if he was going to see the game board ahead.

"And what the hell is anyone doing with Red Stones? I thought all that shit was handled. Do you have any idea where that shit came from?" Fullmetal asked as he looked at Roy over the couch's armrest. "At least they, whoever 'they' are, haven't figured out what to do with them or how to use them correctly," the alchemic genius allowed, huffing out the last of his strength, laying down again. He seemed to have no energy left tonight.

Roy had sat through the whole telling, and had a few concerns himself.

"You said Jacobs was well funded. Maybe we can look into financials, but thanks to your fine work we know a lot about this plot," he said as he rose to pace his inner office.

Roy noticed Fullmetal looked at him again, only this time golden eyes followed his rear end before the younger man threw his arm over his eyes with a quiet groan. Roy smiled to himself as he passed the couch.

"First, we know that 'top officials' are involved, not only through Jacobs' confession, but through the amount of money spent on the equipment you confiscated, the fact that this was happening in Central herself, and that Red Stones were involved."

"How are Red Stones connected to the State?" Fullmetal asked for clarification, but Roy had to focus as molten amber nearly took away his ability to speak. "The Collective had some, too."

"The Collective aside, the Stones were discovered throughout the Forgotten City. I ordered their accumulation and safeguard when my men found them the day I closed the gate," Roy explained. He wasn't sure yet how the group had attained Stones or how they might be related. At this point it would all be speculation, and assuming anything related to their involvement might be deadly. It was another subplot to follow. Damn.

"No shit? Really? Well, fuck… guess I'll ask Al if he saw them or if he knows anything about how they got there in the first place," Fullmetal sighed, drained by the news and speculations.

"We will have to investigate, but the question we need to answer now is if we can trust Intelligence," Roy said, contemplating what he knew of Armstrong's superior.

"You don't trust Fairchild?" Fullmetal seemed to wake up a little. "I thought he was on the up-and-up. He's got that 'by the book' strictness about him that I like."

"You think so?" Roy asked seriously, curious now.

"Yeah, he has a stick up his ass," the blond laughed, "but he's an honest man. Why? You think it's an act?"

"I was just curious as to who you trust. Your instincts are a valuable asset, Fullmetal. I'd be a fool to ignore them," Roy asserted, wondering how close he could get to their invisible line without crossing it.

He and Fullmetal had been working in close quarters for months, but they had done well after getting back from the 'welcome home tour' not to walk too close to breaching the wall they were steadily building between them.

After that awkward conversation in the library, Fullmetal had refrained from mentioning Russell Tringham and so had Roy. In fact, they had both pretended it hadn't happened. At the time, Roy had felt a sharp pain slicing through his gut, twisting his insides in agony at the thought of Fullmetal sleeping with the elder Tringham. Deep down though, Roy knew it was his own damn fault. If he hadn't have told his Colonel to see anyone but him, it might have been Roy…

Shaking his head, he tried to distance himself from those thoughts. The General had tried to keep his and Fullmetal's association strictly professional. He had not pried into his subordinates' personal lives unless those events affected their work, and the only times that had happened were when Havoc got too whiny about his dating life in the office and that day in the library. Since then, even though there was a subtle edge of something more, his relationship with Fullmetal had returned to their normal witty repartee, poking at each other for the fun of it, Russell Tringham totally forgotten.

Sure, they had each slipped a few times, but those instances were still innocent and were never followed through on. For example, Fullmetal checking out his ass a few moments ago or Roy wondering, not for the first time, how soft Fullmetal's hair would be sliding through his fingers.

Roy was actually impressed with his own willpower. Of course it had meant more cold showers and frivolous dating than he wanted to admit. He was having a harder time than expected, but there were more important things happening right now than having Ed in his bed.

No. Not 'Ed.' It was 'Fullmetal.' It had to be 'Fullmetal;' he could never be 'Ed' to Roy. Crossing that line was dangerous. He had to keep it professional. He had to, otherwise he was going to go insane from this feeling. He was starting to feel like he was suffocating from it.

Roy knew it was more than wanting to see golden hair splayed over his pillow, but he couldn't think about that now. If he considered his emotions, then all reason would leave him, and he had too much and too many counting on him attaining his goal.

"Uh… Mustang, you listening to me?" Ed called his attention back to the problem at hand. Shit. No, 'Fullmetal' pulled his attention, not 'Ed.' The blond in question continued without knowing Roy's inner turmoil. "I just asked you what you thought of Fairchild."

"He seems to be a man we can trust, but we should be sure before we share this information. If we miscalculate this, it could spell our deaths," Roy lamented. Those were always the stakes, but the game was just beginning. He needed to know who his opponent was before he could predict their next three moves, just like Grumman had taught him via their chess matches when the cunning General-at-the-time had been Roy's superior at Eastern Command. It made him purse his lips to think that he was playing blind now.

"We'll have to test him then, I guess, but how?" Ed spoke catching Roy's notice again. Damn. 'Fullmetal.' 'Fullmetal.' 'Fullmetal.'

"Wait," Roy's brain finally caught up with what Fullmetal had just said, "you'd be willing to 'test' Fairchild? I remember a time when you would have called me a 'manipulative bastard' for doing that," he smirked.

"Yeah, well, you are," Fullmetal said offhandedly, "but we need to know if we can trust him. And this is the fastest way. Just let me in on the plan this time, though, alright?"

"Deal. We can do it at the Embassy Gala next week," Roy considered out loud.

"What gala?" Fullmetal asked hesitantly, a cute look of being caught unawares crossed his alluring features. Roy was sure the young man was feeling an ominous haze, and it nearly made him laugh.

"You were formally invited to the Xingese Embassy as an honored guest by Prince Ling in thanks for your assistance in foiling that assassination attempt, which you will attend," Roy ordered.

"Come on, Mustang," Fullmetal whined, exhausted again, "really? That was three months ago."

"Yes, they invited you two months ago and I accepted on your behalf. Oh, and it is white tie," Roy smiled devilishly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. Happy New Year! Your comments totally get me pumped, and I end up getting excited to see what you'll think, so keep commenting away! And thanks to pokeperson01's last "oxygen tank" comment on FF, I couldn't help but post this chapter today. So enjoy and be safe this New Year! See you in 2017!


	42. Chapter 42

***White Tie***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

"Brother, stop fidgeting" Al chastised his brother.

"I can't believe I have to do this," Ed complained as he pulled at his tightening collar as Al tied his white bow tie. Al swatted his brother's hand away playfully.

"You'll be fine," Al placated then stepped back. "Ok, done. Now stand up straight and let me see," he ordered as he appraised Ed, taking in the overall effect with a silent smile.

Uncomfortable, Ed turned around to the full length mirror to get a look for himself. His long piss colored hair was down instead of in the high ponytail he was becoming known by. Al had parted it to the right with Ed's signature bangs combed down and tucked neatly behind his ears. Its length swung loose, low on his back.

Ed was dressed in black and white. His wore a stylish three-piece wool suit. The broad shouldered black jacket cut in against his waist but had no buttons or shoulder padding. The wide lapels had a slight shine to them. His loose fitting black trousers hung from waist to toe.

The white vest was a low v-shaped three button affair that covered his suspenders and waistband. His silver watch was tucked into the vest pocket with the chain hanging across the small circular buttons. Beneath these, his pressed white shirt was accented with a pointed white butterfly style bow tie, a singular small round black button cover, and matching cufflinks. Together, over his shirt, they made it seem cleaner and crisper.

When Mustang had told him it was white tie, he had nearly rolled off the couch he'd been laying on. He'd had no idea how he was supposed to dress, so he had asked Gracia to help him. She had been delighted that he had sought her help. She'd told him that Maes had had to go to a couple of these types of functions, so she was able to prepare him with tidbits of what to expect.

The boys had kept their word and came to family dinner once a month, but this had been an additional trip. They had made a day of it, bringing Al and Elicia along on their shopping excursion. Like any mother would, Gracia had smiled and fawned over him, making sure the tailor got the right measurements while telling Ed how great he looked. She had also made sure that he had everything he needed. Afterwards, Ed had treated everyone to ice cream in the park where his mother had given him some much overdue advice on his rocky love life.

* * *

"I'm sorry to hear that," Gracia had said, the sorrow filling her voice not matching brilliance of the sunny, cloudless day. "He was a nice boy."

"Yeah, well, it was my fault. I never should have tried if I couldn't give it my all," he had muttered as he paid the ice cream vender for four cones.

Ed had turned to find his brother and youngest sister down by the lake chasing each other with Elicia's squeals and giggles fliting on the light breeze. He had vowed he would never get tired of seeing their laughing faces, that Al had a face to laugh with would never get old.

"Russell seemed to care about you quite a bit," she had persisted, taking half of his frozen burden. The desserts had not been melting yet, but the sweet, top heavy funnels had looked like they might fall over without much help.

"He was great; he just wanted something I couldn't give him. I was an idiot," Ed had replied, trying to figure out why she had still pushed. I wasn't like her.

"And what about the other idiot? Any news on that front?" she had asked, and he had known then that that had been what she really wanted to know.

How had things been with Mustang? Ed had had no fucking clue. They danced around each other at work. They'd finally settled into a balanced diet of sarcasm, snark, and avoidance, and the list of topics they didn't talk about only seemed to increase.

"Same?" Ed had replied, unsure if anything had really changed.

"I see," she had said, considering his own shaky understanding. "And how are you with that?"

"Uh…" he had stalled, not knowing how to answer. He was kind of relieved that she had brought it up, but also uncomfortable telling his mother about his unrequited feelings for her husband's best friend.

"Do you want it to change?" she had questioned.

"Well, if I could, I would, but right now, it's… complicated. If he wanted me, that'd be one thing, but if that meant putting other people at risk… I don't think I could be that selfish." Ed tried to put his feelings into words. "If we could be together… if it wouldn't hurt anyone and the bastard got off his high horse… then yeah, but I don't see that happening any time soon." He had plopped down on a park bench with a small huff as he watched his siblings' game of chase.

"Well, if you want to change a dynamic, you only need to change yourself," his mother had instructed as she had sat beside him.

"Change myself?" Ed had repeated with an almost scandalized look. "I thought mothers were supposed to tell their children to be themselves and forget trying to be something they're not."

"Oh, Edward," she had laughed. "I meant that if you want to have something different, you have to approach it differently, and that usually requires some change on your part."

"Oh," he had mumbled in embarrassment.

"If he can get his head out of his…" and Ed had nearly fallen over at her near curse, "if Roy can be the man I know he is and you can be the man I know you are, then you'll be good for one another. You both need someone who will challenge and support you without taking any either of your excuses, but if you have to act as less than you are or hurt others to make a life together, what kind of future would that be? There has to be a way for you to be true to yourselves and meet your goals. One does not preclude the other." She reached out with her hand, lightly touching his cheek. "Trust me. If you face each other head on, you can't lose. If neither of you can do that, it might be time to let go."

Yeah, if only it was that easy.

* * *

"So, how do I look?" Ed asked uncertainly when Al just stared at him. "I feel ridiculous in this thing."

"Well, don't. You look great. I'm sure they will appreciate the effort," Al comforted his brother's nerves. "You just need one more thing," he said before turning around and pulling a white piece of fabric out of a small box Gracia had made sure they bought. It was crisp and embroidered with an elegant E. E. in the bottom corner. Al folded it in a complex pattern she had shown him, and then tucked the pocket square into the jacket's breast pouch. "Perfect."

Ed considered the new addition and his appearance in the mirror again. He felt anxious. Not for the first time tonight, he wished he could just wear his normal brown suit and fade into the background. Except, he figured he would stand out in brown at a white tie gala. Damn it. The knock on the door prompted Ed to hurry.

"Ah, almost forgot," Al said as he reached behind Ed, pulling out a camera. "I promised Mrs. Hughes I'd take a picture! Smile," he prompted before taking the shot. Ed's indulgent grin would now be immortalized as he straightened his brother's tie once more.

"Alright, Al, wish me luck," Ed said blinking the flash from his eyes as he grabbed his keys, throwing his white gloves into his black top hat, and made for the door. "And don't stay up too late, even if it's not a school night."

"Good luck, Brother!" Al called after him as he left, ignoring Ed's orders.

Ed opened the door to a waiting Havoc smoking his cigarette.

"You clean up good, Boss," Havoc reviewed.

"You too," Ed gestured to the taller blond in a basic black suit with white shirt and tie. "Well, let's get this over with," he said as they headed off to their night. The whole way there, Ed fiddled with his gloves. They had a lot to do tonight, and he hoped he would be able to pull it all off.

Havoc and Ed arrived amongst the crème of society and military Brass, but split up to accomplish their own missions. Ed wondered at the amount of influence attending tonight's gala. Feeling nervous, he schooled his face, just like Kai taught him and just like he'd seen Mustang do for years, into his winning smile and waved, as the press began to call out his name from the sides of the aisle. Of course, their attention garnered more notice from the crowd around him, so he kept going without making eye contact with the assemblage. Walking up, he took in the entrance.

The base of the building was dark brick while the tall walls rose in a smooth yellow stone to blue topped terraces. The blue tiled roofs had edges that curled upwards and were accented with intricately carved yellow crownwork that mimicked Xingese dragons. The path to the main entrance was a two tiered slope. Its wide mouth and fencing were painted white.

As he entered the ascending walkway, he took in those around him. All the guests were dressed in their finest and walking up towards the arched egress. They couldn't be further from the residents of The Row. Men's black suits and white ties were in sharp contrast to each other. Ladies in satins and silks floated in their floor length gowns. Their hairdos were a mixture of swirling waves and pinned up curls that encircled their doe eyed faces.

A number of women and a few men gave Ed a look he was becoming familiar with. It either meant that they wanted to eat him, or do other more enticing things. Even if Ed was inclined to partake, which he wasn't, he was here to work.

Also, Ed was still lamely holding on to the hope that he and Mustang would find their way to each other. After Russell had broken up with him, he'd been restless. Ed had even gone so far as to buy some decrepit property in The Row this past week, after his last assignment, to give himself a project and help the people he'd met at the same time.

While keeping his hands busy, alchemically reconstructing his buildings, he had come to a decision. Russell had been right. He did still harbor feelings for Mustang, and after trying so hard with Russell, Ed knew the bastard was the only one he wanted. He realized that since he'd waited this long to be with Mustang, he could wait until he was out of the military to make his move. It was only 9 months away…

The only problem with this plan was that Ed had to sit back and watch the endless parade of Mustang's dating life. It seemed busier than Ed remembered growing up, but then again he hadn't really stayed in town long enough to watch nor had he cared who or how many people Mustang was dating at the time.

The one shining light that helped him preserver through it was that Mustang never saw them consistently or for very long. It hurt, but he could do it. He would wait, even if Mustang had told him not to. Damn it, he had crossed a dimensional rift to be with the bastard.

But even if they could be together after his contract was up, how was he supposed to compete with Mustang's ultimate goal of being Führer? Ed figured the only option was to wait it out, but was he going to wait until Mustang was running the country?

Probably. Damn bastard.

It wasn't like it was one sided or anything. He had pretended not to notice Mustang checking him out a few times or giving him longing looks. Ed knew the cost though, and he would never forgive himself if he stopped the person he lo… the person he cared about from reaching his or her goal, especially with so much and so many riding on it.

He'd just have to wait.

Fuck.

His relationship with Russell had taught him that it was too painful to try and override his feelings. As it was, he and Russell were still awkward. It had already been a month since he'd been dumped, and Al had let it slip that Russell was already seeing someone new. Actually, it was a few someones new.

It had surprised Ed, especially since Russell had said that he loved Ed. However, Al had reassured Ed that Russell was simply working through his hurt that he couldn't capture Ed's heart fully. His usually pushy younger brother had mercifully let it go after that.

Ed hadn't meant to cause his ex-boyfriend any pain, but with time and perspective it was becoming more and more clear to Ed that he had not been able to push down his feelings for Mustang enough during their relationship to avoid it. Damn it, that's why he had been worried about starting something with Russell in the first place.

Fuck. And now Russell was hurt, and it was Ed's fault. One more thing he was guilty of added to the impressive pile.

Now that Ed had decided on his course of action with Mustang, he still had one problem. He hated waiting. Although, if he had to wait for another nine months to tell Mustang how he felt, he could and would do that. In the meantime, he'd go to this gala, play politics with the brunet, and pine after the older man on his own time.

Ed made it up to the Xingese Embassy entrance. Unsurprisingly, as Interior was in charge of Embassy protection, Falman and his men were working security in their Amestrian Blues, inspecting invitations at the door. The older officer's widening eyes were the only evidence that the security lieutenant found Ed's formal appearance odd. With a professional nod and a glance at his invitation, the ever formal Lieutenant Falman waved him through.

Once in, Ed checked his hat at the door. Shit. Even the hired help throughout the hall was dressed from slicked back head to shinny toe in their best, most pristine formal ware. It was like walking into another world, but Ed needed to keep his game face on. He was here to work.

The second floor entrance opened up onto a wide landing encircling a lavish dance floor below connected by a broad sophisticated staircase. A small symphony was playing a beautiful waltz while wait staff served hors d'oeuvre platters and flutes of champagne. The décor was elegant, but with a Xingese flare. Ed lifted a glass of wine from a passing tray and entered the room, nodding to those he knew as he looked for Mustang.

Before he could locate his CO, a gong was struck. Excited patrons edged in towards the 20-foot-tall double doors as they opened against the far wall of the ground floor, admitting the royal siblings.

* * *

***Gossip***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

"Presenting their royal highnesses, the Xingese Ambassadors Prince Ling Yao and Princess May Chang," toned the announcer in perfect Amestrian. The crowd clapped politely and clambered at the siblings' appearance.

At Ed's assessment, he had been stunned to see Kai's body double standing beneath the clear dome he had constructed to protect the unknown envoys from assassination. They had the same build and sound to their voices, but Prince Ling had kept all of his hair, while Kai had shaved it off. Ed assumed Kai had done it to seem older than he was and to make a more imposing impression.

Prince Ling had taken a different approach. He had an unassuming air and put on a show of his naiveté in order to allow his enemies to think him weak and thus relax their own guard. At least that was Ed's impression. No, Ling was probably a well-trained man in politics and fighting skills; otherwise, Ed guessed, he would have died years ago. The guy probably spoke Amestrian for all Ed knew.

Now, Ed stood and admired the young man. The prince had his long black hair tied back at the nape of his neck with a white strip of cloth. He was wearing a crisp Western three-piece suit with a white tie and vest, but wore a bold yellow silk sash that had a sheen to it across his chest. He stood with his posture strong but with a fluidity that told Ed the prince was no stranger to hand to hand combat.

Ed had never seen the princess before his assessment, so her image was untainted by the memory of Kai's sexual advances or months of tutelage. She was outfitted in an elegant white banner dress with shimmering inlays. The collar, shoulders, and sides were intricately sewn with a swirling ribbon of yellows and creams. Her bangs fell straight across her forehead as the rest of her hair was pinned back in a formal braided bun.

"They look stunning, don't they?" Brigadier General Avro said, calling Ed back to his immediate surroundings.

"Yes, sir, they do," Ed replied stiffly. He had forgotten what the protocol was for meeting Brass outside of HQ. Ed turned to the Brigadier General in his smart black suit and white tie, making his pointy eyebrows and goatee more pronounced. His female companion had her raven hair in pinned swirls around her oval face; it was punctuated by a small mole on the right side of her chin. She was clad in a clingy silver floor length gown that hung off of her thin shoulders.

"At ease, Fullmetal," Avro waved him down with a smile beneath his styled goatee. "Relax, this is supposed to be a social event, remember? Call me Frank, and this is my wife, Helen. Helen, this is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."

"What a pleasant surprise," she said as she offered her hand. Ed took it and bowed over it. "Frank is always talking about you," she said, but not letting go of his hand. Instead she used it to slide her other hand's grip to his arm. She was now standing next to him with her arm wrapped around his like a snake, making him instantly aware of his automail. "He never said anything about you being so hansom, though."

Ed held his tongue and looked up to the Brigadier General for any clue as to how to handle his clingy wife. The man just looked indulgently at his wife, so Ed thanked her.

"Did you really stay undercover for nearly five years? How did you do it? I would have gone mad. And being away from alchemic research for so long!" She tapped his arm with her folded Xingese fan. "I know how you alchemists are," she accused, pointing her fan's tip at him, "you can hardly handle going a few hours without thinking of some array.

"Frank's the same, aren't you, Darling? He can't go a day without thinking about what else he can configure from some dusty old book," she continued, not seeming to need a reply, so Ed let her talk at him.

He tried to remember what Brigadier General Avro's symbolic name was, but he couldn't think of it. He would have to ask Mustang if Mrs. Avro didn't tell him soon. It was always better to know a potential alchemic rival's name to get a sense of his alchemic affinity. He wasn't sure they could trust Avro any more than Fairchild, but now was as good a time as any to socially assess the man's allegiances.

"It can't be that bad, Mrs. Avro, could it?" Ed joked politely.

"Oh-ho. You just bet it is, and call me Helen," she paused long enough to say. "Frank spends all his time at home reading up on sand. Can you imagine? Sand!"

"Well, my dear," Frank chuckled. "There are a number of different elements in different soils…" he trailed off as if thinking he was going to bore someone.

"And they all have different compositions of the minerals in them," Ed continued the left sentiment helpfully, but before he could say anymore Helen interrupted.

"Oh, Darling, how have you not gotten him under your command? Listen to him talk like you. He is simply delightful," she said to her husband with a broad smile. "Can you imagine, Darling? The Sandstorm Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist working together! Oh, oh, oh! It would be grand!"

"Oh, but if I could, my dear. Edward here works with the Flame Alchemist. I can't imagine working on any of the difficult and dangerous missions that these two must get up to, am I right, Edward?" He lightheartedly lamented as he rapt Ed on his free shoulder with good cheer.

"Oh, phooey!" Helen pouted.

"Sorry, Frank, Helen," he said, "I've worked with Mustang my whole career. Couldn't up and change now."

"That's what I supposed," the man resigned, and Ed couldn't decide how much of it was genuine and how much was for show. "It would be great, though, to have you in Alchemic Affairs, but Amestris needs you and your talents where you are, even if Mustang is a slippery one."

"Naw, he's not so bad," Ed protested.

"Yes, he must be something if he wrangled you in your wild days. I heard you were rather troublesome in your youth, what with all the stories of your exploits…" Frank tried to bait him.

"I guess I did play it a little fast and loose early in my career," Ed affirmed with a self-depreciating smile, and they all chuckled. He wasn't famous for nothing. "But I think I've settled down some thanks to Mustang's example," Ed informed the Brigadier General and his wife.

"Oh really?" Helen perked up. "I have always found Mustang to be a rather slick fellow. Just look at how he was able to come back to his full rank and title after all that talk about him killing Bradley and then taking two years as a corporal in that northern outpost. Do you mean you have followed in his footsteps?"

Ed felt blindsided. He plastered his winning smile in place before they could read his surprise. He had no idea what they were talking about. When the hell had Mustang taken two years at an outpost? _An outpost_ for fuck's sakes! And as a _corporal_?! What the fuck? Ed wanted to scream and shake the answers out of Helen, but he knew only one person knew the real reason why that had occurred.

Ed had wondered what had happened to Mustang when he had first seen Fritz, Bradley's doppelganger back in Germany. Ed had been afraid that Mustang had failed in his attempt to kill the homunculus Führer. However, since Mustang had been in Central to fight alongside him against the Germans, he had figured that his CO had succeeded, even if he now sported a new eyepatch.

Still, Ed had never asked what had transpired. He'd have to ask Mustang about it later. Right now, he needed to know if Avro supported Mustang or Hakuro. Damn it, Mustang!

"Well, I would say that I've seen him calmly assess the situation, think it through with as many facts as possible, and come to a conclusion rather than barrel in and make things up as I go along. You could say that I've learned that patience and planning are what help win the day, not just brute force and a fancy show," Ed nodded to Major General Hakuro in the crowd below them who was exchanging his empty glass for a full one.

"Yes, unlike some other Generals we could name," Avro agreed gesturing angrily with his wine flute towards Major General Hakuro with his unflattering appraisal.

"Oh, that odious man," Helen grumbled with passion in her steely voice. "Can you believe Bradley made him Vice Führer right before his death? How could anyone want that man to run this country? He'd just as soon kiss someone's behind as stab them in the back!

"Thank goodness Grumman was appointed to the post of Führer while Hakuro was being investigated after all that nastiness got out about what Bradley was really up to. Can you imagine starting wars intentionally and using people in experiments at Laboratory 5? Hideous things."

"Too right, my dear. Too right," Frank nodded once with conviction.

Ed looked down at the man in question. He had wondered what the fallout would be after Mustang and he had had their battles with the homunculi. Now he knew the public story. He gripped the railing's edge with his left hand, frustrated that he had not thought to ask. He would get the whole story from Mustang, even if he had to try every trick in the book.

"Was Hakuro linked to any of those crimes?" Ed asked curiously.

"No, but that doesn't mean the man wants to 'Be Thou for the People' like any alchemist would. He's too political for that," Avro made a noise that Ed thought passed for polite societies version of a growl.

"Do you remember right after _The Invasion_ , Darling, and all those people were displaced? I heard through Major General Bell's wife Clara that Sara told her that Hakuro nearly threw them out of their tents into the coming winter before Brigadier General Mustang could get their temporary housing up."

"Sara who, my dear? I don't believe I know a Sara," he asked his wife confused, as if that was the most important part of Helen's story. Ed forced himself not to roll his eyes.

"Oh, Major General Weiss' mistress. She said that Gladys told her that Major General Hakuro tried to throw them out. Come to think of it, she also said Mustang got wind of it and asked for more alchemists to finish the job and upset Hakuro's plans," she remarked with a laugh.

"Oh, is that why Mustang had been pushing me for more alchemists to be temporarily transferred to Central? Why didn't he say so? It would have been easier for him to have the State Department issue a State of Emergency. Then he could have gotten anything he asked for," the Avros considered the gossip as their eyes found Mustang in the throng below.

"He probably wanted to keep Major General Hakuro from realizing he could appropriate State Alchemists whenever he wanted just by claiming a State of Emergency," Ed put in humbly as they turned their attention back to him with wide eyes.

"Mustang's always trying to keep alchemists from having to become human weapons again, like he was forced to be in Ishbal," Ed shared, wondering if he was giving away too much. But by the look of admiration in both Frank and Helen's eyes as they peered back over the railing at Mustang, Ed had read them right. He was sure he had just added another two allies to Team Mustang.

"If you'll excuse me? I'm supposed to meet with the delegation soon," Ed excused himself, following their line of sight to pinpoint Mustang's location.

"Of course, sweetheart," Helen approved.

"Too right, and tell Mustang I said to keep up the good work," Frank asserted.

"I will." Ed replied and then added with a bow as he removed Helen's hand from his arm, "It was very nice to meet you, Helen. Frank, I'll see you around HQ."

"It was nice meeting you, too," Helen called after him and he could just make out her telling Frank, "Well that was the most interesting conversation I have had in a while. Imagine, Mustang deserving the title 'Hero of Central' after all. I never would have guessed."

"Too right, my dear. Too right."

Ed smirked as he walked towards the stairway that would lead him down to the dance floor and his CO.

* * *

***Dancing***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

As Ed reached the top of the stairs, he caught sight of an irritated Hakuro as the man replaced his drink before walking away from a smirking Mustang. The brunet nearly hid his shock when he saw Ed's appearance, but Ed saw it. The look in Mustang's eye gave Ed hope that after his military service was up, they could still end up together. He took in Mustang's appearance as he came down the stairs and circled the dance floor.

Mustang didn't look half bad himself. Truthfully, Ed couldn't look away from the stunning older man as Ed walked over to him. His hair was slicked back which Ed thought looked weird, but nice at the same time.

It made Mustang look more severe than his everyday tousled hairstyle, though. Ed wanted to run his fingers through it to free up some of the loose tendrils he knew were waiting to fall and frame Mustang's face, just like they had that day he and Mustang had each set out to kill homunculi.

Mustang's coat fit him well, wide in the shoulders and cut in at the waist. The lapels were wide and shone against the rest of his dark black wool suit. The white vest beneath it also had gossamer labels that came together with three buttons over his waist. His white bow tie and vest nearly blending into his freshly pressed white shirt. The chain from his silver pocket watch was hidden, but Ed knew Mustang carried it nonetheless.

"Avro told me to tell you to 'keep up the good work,'" Ed relayed with a knowing smirk as he came up to Mustang.

"You've been busy, eh, Fullmetal," Mustang teased but acknowledged the endorsement. "Dragon wants to speak with you, too, and we need to engage Fairchild before the night is out."

"Well, introduce me to Prince Ling after Fairchild. That way we can focus on our own first," Ed reasoned.

"Sound plan, seeing as we already know where Dragon falls," Mustang said as he turned his attention to look for their targets.

"Oh, do we now?" Ed asked annoyed that he was just hearing this for the first time. He was probably more irritated because Helen had just told him about the events following his disappearance that Mustang had not communicated to him. Then again, he hadn't questioned Mustang about what had happened during his missing years, either, so he wasn't sure he could fully blame his commanding officer for his own lack of information.

Mustang looked at Ed seriously as he noted the change in Ed's attitude.

"Later. Let's just focus on why we came here," Ed tried to push away his nebulous vexations to clear his head for the next bit of politicking.

Mustang nodded to the left and Ed followed him to where Fairchild and his date were standing. Ed lightly bumped into Fairchild's shoulder as if he had done so accidentally while walking past.

"Oh, I'm sorry… Ah, Brigadier General Fairchild, it's nice to see you here," Ed greeted innocently.

"Fullmetal, it's nice to see you, too. Dear," Fairchild turned to his companion, "this is Colonel Edward Elric and Brigadier General Roy Mustang. Gentlemen, this is my fiancée, Emma Clemins."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma," Mustang pleasantly coaxed a smile from her as he bent over her hand and kissed it.

"My, Brigadier General, you are a sweet talker, aren't you?" Emma blushed beneath her milk chocolate and lightly freckled face.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Clemins" Ed redirected her to himself trying to keep Mustang from poking Fairchild this way. Damn it Mustang. Did he really have to flirt with the mark's fiancée?! Couldn't he agitate him another way?

"Edward, call me Emma. Edward Elric… Where do I know that name?" She thought for a second, then realization struck. "Not _the_ Edward Elric? The Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"The one and the same, unfortunately," Ed said self-deprecatingly with a smile.

"Oh, don't say that," she reached forward and gripped his arm with sincerity, making him uncomfortable at her touch. "You do so many wonderful things for the Amestrian people, just look at what you did for everyone in The Row."

The Brigadier Generals looked at him in surprise before she continued.

"You made it safer now that Jacobs is gone, and since you bought those properties, all those people now have a place to sleep indoors and access to running water that they didn't have before." She beamed at Ed, but the praise made him uncomfortable and self-conscious.

It surprised him to know that Emma was aware of Jacobs and his operation. Had Fairchild told her? Either Mustang or he would have to prompt her to tell them more about what she knew. As for his new properties…

Well, he had lived a week undercover in The Row, and he still couldn't believe the low quality of life the residents lived in. After dealing with the Red Stones and Jacobs, he had felt so bothered by the conditions there that he used some of his back pay to buy a block's worth of condemned buildings for a fraction of the cost.

Ed had alchemically reinforced them, like he'd heard Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong had done in Lior, except he resisted the urge to decorate them as outlandishly as the Lieutenant Colonel. Not to say that he hadn't added in a few hints of gothic stonework to the architecture of his buildings. It was a weak impression of the badass décor he had given to his creations in his youth, but it looked alright.

He had offered it as temporary housing with running water for the residents of The Row until they could find housing on their own. Of course he wanted to do more, but had no idea where to start.

"Emma is working with the residents in The Row to help them get back on their feet, finding them food, work, and housing," Fairchild said, proud of his betrothed. He gave her a look that told Ed that Fairchild adored her.

"That is a true calling, Emma," Mustang complemented as he too noticed that Fairchild's weak spot was this woman. "Many would not try to help them."

"You think so? I don't know. I believe it is our civic duty to help those who cannot help themselves or who are down on their luck. Just like Edward here did. Don't you, Brigadier General?"

"I agree whole heartedly. That is what civic service and the government are for, to help the people," Mustang elaborated. "And call me Roy," he enticed with a flirtatious smile while Fairchild began to glare at Mustang.

Ed felt a pang in his gut as he saw Mustang flirting with someone in front of him, even if it was to get a reading on Fairchild. Not that they were in a relationship, but fuck did it hurt. Ed decided he wasn't going to stand here and let Mustang rile Fairchild like this, even though that was the plan.

It is an old ploy, get the mark emotionally upset so he would be more likely to say something he wouldn't normally, if he was thinking straight. While they had agreed to push Fairchild into giving any clues to his allegiances and to see if he was trustworthy, it was stupid in Ed's opinion to get the mark pissed at you for going after his girl. Plus, Ed wasn't going to lay down and let Mustang flirt with said girl in front of him. Fucking jackass.

"Brigadier General Fairchild," Ed spoke into the charging silence.

"Call me Jack," the man replied politely but still kept Mustang and Emma in his peripheral vision.

"May I dance with your charming fiancée, Jack? That is, if Emma doesn't mind?" Ed inquired.

"I would be delighted, Edward," Emma answered before Fairchild could reply. If anything, Fairchild looked slightly relieved.

"By all means, Fullmetal," Fairchild agreed with a congenial smile.

"Call me Ed," he said to them both as he turned to hand his untouched drink to Mustang with a pointed look. Then turning back, he smiled amiably. He bowed to Emma before he took her hand, leading her to the dance floor.

Ed ignored the annoyed slant to Mustang's mouth; he was getting really good at reading the older alchemist. Ed didn't care that he had subverted this gambit. Ed was going to have to set some ground rules if they were going to work like this in the future.

They had both silently agreed not to talk about what hung unnamed between them, but if bringing it up was what Ed needed to do to explain why it hurt to have Mustang flirt in front of him, he would. He wasn't going to be walked on, especially not by Mustang.

Ed led Emma to the dance floor and began to spin her around the floor with a grace he didn't realize he had. It also helped that his legs were the same length again. Teacher had taught him and Al how to dance in their training; she had said it was part of preparing the mind as well as the body, and that dancing was just like fighting. You moved and circled your partner with balance and skill. Ed smiled to remember the woman who had influenced his life so much, lifting Emma into the air with care, mindful of his automail.

"You dance wonderfully," she complemented with a smile as he placed her back on the floor and continued the steps.

"It helps to have an accomplished dancing partner," Ed replied with honesty. She smiled and blushed a little.

Whoops. He inwardly cringed. He hadn't meant that to sound like flirting, so he changed topic.

"So Emma, tell me about the work you do in The Row. How are you involved? Is it through an organization?" Ed asked wondering if he might glean how to run the new responsibility he had taken on.

Her eyes lit up at his choice in topic, as if she had been trying to steer the conversation that way from the beginning.

"My father runs the Judicial Department, so I have always been involved with rehabilitating offenders. Unfortunately, most of them live in The Row," she explained.

He figured her father must be Brigadier General Clemins, then. Seems everyone knows everyone, considering Helen's list in her chain of gossipers and that Brigadier General Clemins' daughter was engaged to Brigadier General Fairchild.

"I have been leading the Amestrian Aid Foundation's focus on helping supply Row residents with housing and food while also helping them gain the skills they need to find legitimate work," she continued without noticing his train of thought.

"How do you find them hosing?" Ed inquired as an interested party.

"Most of the buildings in that area are condemned, and most of the residents cannot afford a proper apartment, much less a house. So we at the AAF try to get the State or local businesses to sponsor shelters which we then run." She smiled a devious grin.

He figured by the look she gave him she was getting to her point; the reason she had so easily gone off to dance with him was coming.

"Then there are people like you. Let me ask you Ed, why did you buy and convert those old properties? The AAF has been trying for years to get enough support together to renovate those buildings into a new shelter, biggest one yet," Emma waited for his reply.

"Well, recently I had been on assignment there, and I couldn't believe how the people were living," he paused thinking about Mary. "I ran into a girl there that I'd met right before I became a State Alchemist. Ever since she lost her mother in _The Invasion_ , she has been pickpocketing just to eat."

Emma nodded her understanding. She wasn't surprised at all that a young girl was living off of her stealthy fingers.

"I'd saved her life as a child only for her to end up stealing to survive," Ed spoke solemnly at the tragedy of it. "When I finished my mission, I saw this 'for sale' sign in the window for these properties, and I just got to thinking. If I couldn't make up for her loss, then I could at least give her and all those I'd met a warm dry bed and clean water."

"Just what I thought," she announced with conviction, and Ed looked her straight in the eyes with a stony gaze. "Ed, you are a big softy!" She giggled, reminding him of Winry, as he spun her again.

Not sure how to take that sentiment, Ed kept a blank face and waited for her to elaborate.

"Oh don't look at me like that! You are one of the good ones," she swatted his chest playfully. "I just meant that even though you have this reputation for being a great fighter and alchemist, you really are the 'Hero of the People.' I admire that."

"Thanks, Emma," Ed said, uncomfortable with her praise, so he bounced it right back to her. "I am glad to see you trying to help the people in The Row."

"Yes. Most of the people I meet only help to win some good will, pretending it's to help the residents in The Row, but really donating for the tax credits or publicity. You're doing it because it is the right thing to do. Ed, we need more people in Amestris like you," she smiled.

"Does Jack help you?" Ed asked to redirect her attention away from praising him as they continued to dance while another song began to play. He didn't mind so much the sought after attention, but he was always embarrassed by the unsolicited acclaim he got.

"Oh, Jack does what he can, but sadly Intelligence doesn't allow him a lot of time away. He doesn't really have the resources to deal with The Row and its residents, as much as he'd like to, unlike some," she said poignantly.

Ed was reminded that he was not the only one with an agenda here. He needed to know Fairchild's allegiances, but Emma had her own reasons for talking with him about The Row.

"What would he do if he could?" Ed asked, hoping that it was a natural course for the conversation to go.

"He'd spend all his time helping them," she sighed wistfully, smiling at the thought. "Jack grew up there, so he feels very strongly that we should be doing more to help those who cannot get themselves out like he did. Not everyone can join the military."

"I had no idea," Ed confessed stunned.

"Most people don't. But between you and me, Ed, I feel like I can trust you," Emma confided, "and that is saying something. I have been around military personnel all my life, and I know who is trying to pull a fast one and who is sincere, even if they are playing the game, like Mustang's bid to move the country forward. Jack had a rough start, but I know he wants the best for the whole country, not just The Row."

"If you feel like you can trust me, answer me this, what kind of future does he want for Amestris?" Ed challenged.

"Jack wants a prosperous nation safe from her enemies both foreign and domestic. One that includes the betterment of her people," Emma said with conviction.

"That sounds very politic, Emma," Ed hedged trying to get more details.

"Right now," she sighed, "he and I believe the country is on the right path, and with people like you, and even Brigadier General Mustang, to help us down that road, we will make a difference. And I think starting in The Row, helping those people find a place to live is a great place to start."

He relaxed his mask some, but was still uncomfortable with the praise. He tried to distract her again.

"How do you run the facilities once you have them, then?" Maybe he could get some help running his new properties.

"Obviously, they are drug and alcohol free, but residents don't have to pay anything to stay. They are given three meals a day, a room with a bed, and they can participate in classes to learn occupational skills. Residents are free to come and go as they choose, but we like to keep an eye on them."

"How do you do that?" Ed questioned. If the shelters were imposing, then most of the people he had met in The Row would never make it through the door.

"Oh, our staff and volunteers are drilled in privacy, but we figure that the more available our people are, the more likely we are to catch on if something isn't right. It is more like checking in on a friend than a regimented review of the troops. If it were, no one would let us help them."

"Well, it seems to me that I have a few properties in The Row that need some management. Know of anyone who'd be willing to run them?" He asked her with a genuine smile and she beamed back with her success. "Of course," he warned, "I'd want to be involved every step of the way."

"Of course," she agreed in a rush, and they both laughed.

"One more thing, Emma. How did you know about Jacobs?" Ed asked more seriously.

"You are not the only one who knows people in The Row," she boasted with a coy smile. "Actually, the whole district is spreading the word. I had a number of people tell me about how you saved a young woman from some human experiments a week or so ago. The people there are still singing your praises; imagine a State Alchemist who cares about all the people of Amestris, even the ones no one wants to see."

Ed blushed. Her unsought after praise made him uncomfortable, and he'd had enough tonight to last him a lifetime.

"Oh, Ed," she said taking in his pink cheeks with cheer, "you really are adorable."

Having both gotten all the information they were going to get, they made their way back to the Brigadier Generals.

Mustang was smirking and Fairchild looked annoyed. Damn it Mustang. The man was supposed to be getting him on their side, not antagonizing him.

"Guess who is going to be running the Elric Estate?" Emma called out excitedly to her fiancé, smiling largely as she moved from Ed's arm to that of her fiancé's without a backwards glance. She really did love Jack, it seemed.

This time Fairchild smiled and Mustang applied his false mask. It made Ed smirk himself at their reversal.

"That is wonderful news, Emma," Fairchild cheered then turned back to Ed smiling. "Thank you, Ed. The AAF will take good care of your properties. You won't regret this."

"Well, once I heard how the AAF shelters were run, I knew the people in The Row would be better off," Ed smiled honestly and was joined by Fairchild's heartfelt grin and given a friendly hand on his metal shoulder. "Of course, I want to be kept in the loop," he said as he and Emma shared a smile.

Mustang took in the exchange with a curious look in his eye that Ed would have to ask him about later. Right now, they had to go meet royalty.

"Well, if you are done dancing the night away, Fullmetal, Prince Ling would like to meet with you, now," Mustang toned.

"Ok, Mustang," Ed acknowledged then turned to the beaming couple. "Emma, it was great meeting you. Jack, you have an amazing woman here," Ed complemented.

"Don't I know it," Fairchild admired her, and she returned his affection. Ed could feel the love radiating off of them.

"Emma, I will come by the AAF Monday to discuss the details," Ed added.

"Yes, yes, please do, Ed," she pleaded while beaming. "It was wonderful to meet you!"

"Jack, I'll see you around HQ," Ed smiled goodbye as he and Mustang left the couple and made their way towards the Xingese siblings. His good cheer was not fully faked. He had gotten the assistance he desperately needed but hadn't known where to get it before that dance. Ed only had to worry about the piqued man he was walking next to.

* * *

***Hakuro's Plans***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

"It seems you have a knack for making friends," Mustang commented as they walked around the dance floor.

"And it seems you can't help flirting with anyone, even other men's fiancées," Ed rejoined with a little more venom than he had meant.

"I only did that, Fullmetal, to upset Fairchild as planned, but it appears you were also guilty of flirting with Miss Clemins," Mustang replied annoyed, noting Ed's hypocrisy.

"That was unintentional," Ed defended himself, but was still embarrassed.

"Well, did you learn anything useful from your conversation besides how to let the AAF take care of The Row, which by the way was very astute. Now you have a legitimate reason to talk with them whenever we need to."

"That's not why I did it, Mustang, and you know it. I wanted to help out those I met in The Row, people like Mary."

"I know," Mustang acknowledged sincerely. "So, what did you find out tonight?"

"A lot actually, but we'll have to talk about it all later. As for now, seems like Emma and Jack's goals align with ours, but I couldn't get any more without letting her know what we were up to. She does trust me, though, so that is something. Did you get anything from Jack?"

"Not nearly enough, but he wasn't really paying attention to _me_."

Ed looked over at Mustang for an explanation when he didn't continue.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Fullmetal, that you are an attractive young man who Fairchild was becoming afraid might win over his blushing bride-to-be."

Ed felt nervous as a fluttering in his stomach prevented him from speaking. Mustang had just said he was attractive! Ed should not let some throw-away comment like that make him react like this, but it did. He tried to shake off his stomach's twittering; they were here to work.

Wait, so the frown Jack had been wearing when he and Emma came back was because Fairchild thought he had been flirting with Emma? Well, that was new. Ed had never been accused of stealing away a date before, even though Havoc had complained about him needing to watch out for both Mustang and Ed now. Damn. Dating was hard and confusing, even when you weren't actually doing anything.

"It also means that you were enough of a distraction," Mustang continued not noticing Ed's reflections, "for Fairchild to let slip that Hakuro has been making some interesting inquiries lately. When we get back to the office, we will have to see what the link is between the files he requested," Mustang considered the situation as they came up to the ambassadors' group.

When the prince caught sight of them, he excused himself from the large gathering in front of him, and came straight over to them with the whole crowd watching his sudden movements. Yup, definitely martial arts training.

"Ed!" Ling called out gaining the three of them even more attention. "I so glad you come and Mustang, too!" The prince said in broken Amestrian with a heavily accented voice.

Maybe Ed should learn Xingese. Couldn't hurt to at least learn a few phrases.

"Your highness," Ed said as he bowed.

"It nice see you again. May, come welcome guests," Ling called to his half-sister.

In truth, they did not look alike except for the features common to all Xingese people, slanted eyes, yellow toned skin, black hair. Not that Ed could say much. He was the last Xerxian looking man alive with piss yellow eyes and hair along with a warm tan that never faded; Ed was glad Al took after their mother.

"Oh my goodness, Ed! It is good to see you again. My brother and I are happy you were able to come," May greeted in flawless Amestrian, then added low in a conspirator's tone, "In fact, Ling threw this gala specifically to get a chance to meet with you."

Ed was startled, but did his best to hide it behind his false smile.

"I am honored by the invitation," he replied boisterously for the eavesdroppers.

"You know, Ed, your brother, Alphonse took my class on Alkehestry at Central University this past semester. He spoke very highly of you," she noted loud enough for others to hear, taking a cue from him.

"Yeah, Al loved your course. Any time I'd see him, it was all he would talk about," Ed praised honestly, but played along hoping the sycophants would be satisfied by the bland topic.

"That's so nice to hear," she replied.

"Come, I show you grand terrace. Has beautiful view of night," Ling gestured for them to follow him. "May, please entertain guests," he said more than asked, but she nodded somewhat annoyed.

Ed doubted they liked each other very much, even if they seemed to be on the same side at the moment. Ling led them out onto the deserted outdoor patio railing 20 feet from the door.

"See, beautiful!" He said loudly so everyone listening in could hear. Then in the blink of an eye, he turned around to them and began speaking perfect Amestrian in a low tone. "That should keep them off our trail for about 5 minutes. Learn anything new, Roy?"

"Some, but not enough to see what game Hakuro is playing. It would be something if he made a larger move, but he has been keeping his head above the fray. We just need to wait to see what he is planning," Mustang told the prince to Ed's surprise, instinctively throwing up his own version of Mustang's mask. He didn't know Ling well enough to speak this openly. Damn it, Mustang, why hadn't he told Ed about Ling beforehand?

"You do not need to hide behind a mask, Ed. I am on your side," Ling explained, a cheeky grin and squinted eyes laughing at him.

"I guess I should have known," Ed obliged, but looked at Mustang, his irritation evident.

"Well, now you do; so, what have you been able to gather tonight, Ling?" Mustang asked.

Look at these two being all friendly on a first name basis and shit. Damn it, Mustang, you jackass. A little heads-up would have been nice! Well, whatever. They were here now, so he'd deal with this later.

"Not much which probably means whatever his plans are he is about to act. You know how he gets tight lipped right before he tries something," Ling reasoned as he tilted his head to the side to think it over.

"Hmmm. Alright. Can you have Lan Fan or Fu watch him the rest of the night? We'll need to know if he makes a slip. He's drinking like he's celebrating," Mustang's analytic mind planned.

Ed hadn't noticed Hakuro's drinking habits, but he should have. He thought back throughout the night. When he was talking with the Avros he'd seen Hakuro exchanging a full glass for an empty one and then again when Ed had gone to meet Mustang, so that meant Hakuro was at least three drinks in.

"Yes, I think that is possible. I will also instruct the wait staff to keep drinks in his eye line," Ling added.

Ed's head was spinning from the conversation. They were spying on a Major General, and it sounded more like they were talking about picking a route for a road trip. It was also unnerving to hear Kai's voice again.

"Fullmetal, pay attention. You need to bump into Hakuro to assess him mood," Mustang ordered.

"Why because you piss him off whenever you talk to him or because I'm his type?" Ed asked sarcastically and Ling laughed.

"Oh, I like him, Roy," Ling said to Mustang with a smile.

Mustang leveled Ed with a look that said Ed was pushing his luck, but Ed didn't care. He was pissed that Mustang had still been keeping things from him, like Ling, his years in a fucking outpost as a corporal, and who knew what else.

He was also irritated that the bastard hadn't considered that flirting in front of him would hurt him, or maybe the Flame Alchemist had and thought the reward outweighed the cost, or worse, that the Brigadier General didn't care.

The way Mustang had looked at him when he had laughed with Emma also rubbed Ed the wrong way. Did the bastard think he was flirting with Emma on purpose to get back at him for turning Ed down when he first got back?

"Yes, Fullmetal. It's true that the Major General does not respond well to me, so we need someone who he will not be inclined to see as a threat or someone to flatter. We need to know what he is up to," Mustang said.

"He isn't my number one fan either Mustang, so we might not get the clearest results," Ed reasoned.

"Better than nothing," Ling dismissed his concern. "Now we have to get back or we will look more suspicious than we already do. It was nice to meet you more informally, Ed. Until next time." As they reentered the grand hall, Ling resumed speaking in his contrived broken Amestrian, "So you like?"

"Yes, your highness, it is a magnificent view," Roy said

"Isn't it?" asked Hakuro from behind the drapes that framed the doorway they had just entered through.

"Please excuse, Major General Hakuro, I need speak security with Brigadier General Mustang," Ling conveyed before both brunets walked over to Lan Fan.

"Of course, your Majesty," Hakuro effaced. Both he and Ed bowed when the other two left them.

"Major General Hakuro," Ed began because it wasn't totally awkward to have the guy who had demanded sex from him a few months ago to be giving him the once over tonight. It made his skin crawl. "Enjoying the party?" Ed asked to keep the General from walking away. Damn Bastard and useless prince.

"As a matter of fact I am, Elric. Your work in The Row is the talk of the room. It would have been better had you come and talked with me first before buying up those properties, though. We could have planned out how we could have used all that good will," Hakuro said as he put his drunken hand on Ed's shoulder.

Ed inwardly cringed. As much as he used his body in hand to hand combat, he had never really liked to be touched, even by Al, ever since his mother had died and he had lost his limbs. Casual contact was still new to him; Russell had been a cuddler, so he had tried to get used to it. Although he had worked on it, casual touch still made himself conscious of his automail. After all, he wasn't fully human, not with two metal appendages. And Hakuro was a fucking jackass.

"You know, Elric," Hakuro slurred slightly, "a man with your resources and connections should be working in the State Department. I'd make sure you were fully taken care of, if you know what I mean," the man leered and leaned in towards Ed, so they were face to face. "I could help make you an important man," Hakuro promised rubbing his thumb up and down the side of Ed's neck where it met his shoulder. "Whadda say?"

"As I said before, I like it in Interior. It's work I've always done, and I only have a little over nine months on my contract, so it would be a waste for me to move now," Ed explained with a restrained tone to his voice, ready to knock away the inappropriate touch.

"Not if we extend your contract," Hakuro threatened angrily, gripping the back of Ed's neck harshly. "Then you could work for me when war breaks out." Hakuro leaned further into Ed's face before pushing himself off of Ed into a straighter position and letting go as he looked away.

"Are you expecting a war?" Ed was concerned now.

"Hmm?" Hakuro hummed distractedly, glancing back to Ed and then letting his eyes roam. "You never know," he smiled maliciously, unconsciously looking in the direction of the kitchen door behind Ling as a well-dressed brunet waiter emerged wearing dirty shoes. Alarm bells immediately went off in Ed's head as the realization hit him. Hakuro was making a move right now!

Fuck!

Ed pushed passed the unfocussed Major General before he sped across the room to Ling. He rushed towards the brown haired man he suspected was an assassin, getting closer with every step. With a slight glimmer of movement behind the price, Ed leaped in front of Ling's back as the assailant jabbed his arm out, wielding a sharp, ornate metal dagger.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know it's super long (not that most of you will mind), but I figured if we are going to finish this story before school picks up again *crosses fingers* then I need to move us along. Originally, and you can tell from the breaks, I had planned to post these four chapters separately, but they also flow together since they all take place in one night. Also, Ling. =) See you soon!
> 
> Your comments feed my muse, so comment away!


	43. Chapter 43

***An Honest Moment***

Central, Amestris, June 1920

A sharp pain ripped through Ed's automail arm and chest plates as the would-be assassin's drawn blade slid into Ed's shoulder joint with a loud clank and the grating of metal against metal. It made his whole body seize as his lungs hitched. His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to think through the burning electricity in his nerves, but he couldn't; the only thing he was able to do was not scream. He fell to the floor with the power of the strike with a heavy thud.

Behind him Lan Fan grabbed the startled counterfeit waiter's arm, twisting it behind him, while Fu forced the brunet attacker to his knees and put the man in a head lock. His expression, or from what Ed could see of it through the haze of pain shooting up his dysfunctional arm, was perplexed at having been thwarted.

The room took notice of the commotion at the noise of metal clashing violently and Ed's body crashing to the floor, not to mention the aggressive movements of Ling's people. All eyes were on their group as they secured the would-be killer. Ling and Mustang began giving orders to Lan Fan, Fu, Havoc, Hawkeye, and Falman, who had materialized out of nowhere, but the other guests were shaken.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ling spoke to the crowd as the surprised-turned-surly attacker was removed from the main hall by the prince's security team. "forgiveness please. Events most unfortunate, but all is well. Please accept humblest apologies for inconvenience," Ling articulated in his fake accent.

Mustang kneeled down and helped Ed to his feet. He was struggling to use his right arm. The assassin's blade was lodged in between the automail plates that made up his shoulder. Inhaling sharply as he stood, Ed rose to an amalgam of gasps.

The portion of the blade that was visibly sticking out of his right shoulder was exposed to their audience. Ed tried to dislodge it, but the lacing pain shooting up his arm into his lung told him it had gotten mixed up with the wires attached to his nerves. Must be some sort of hook or something along the edge of it. Then for the second time in his life and twice within six months, Ed heard a slow clap begin as the attendees realized what had happened.

"Mustang, I gotta get out of here," he hissed through his teeth, cradling his automail across his chest, as he smiled and bowed politely to the crème of society and military Brass. He could smell a slightly burnt metallic odor coming from his shoulder, and he wondered if the blade was dipped in poison. If so, it would explain the melting smell and small sizzle rising from his shoulder along with the tingles of pain he was still experiencing.

"Go out through the kitchen with Havoc. Hawkeye and I will meet you at the car in 5," Mustang ordered through his gritted teeth as he smiled at the crowd. "Falman, secure the area and coordinate with Prince Ling's people…" Ed heard his CO directing as he turned to Jean for an exit.

"This way, Boss," Havoc guided.

"Gladly," he muttered emphatically. Ed left the uncomfortable room filled with applause, waving his left hand. Thankfully, Havoc was an efficient extraction expert. They wove through the kitchen staff and out the back door to the car within moments. Hawkeye and Mustang met them a few minutes later.

"You sure got it stuck in there good, Boss," Havoc appraised. The First Lieutenant inspected the knife protruding out of Ed's shoulder with the flashlight he had gotten out of the trunk. Ed was sitting half in half out of the back seat while Havoc poked around his automail.

"How are you doing, Edward," Hawkeye asked concerned, coming up to them slowly like Ed was a wounded bull in a china shop.

"Fine, s'long as I can get this knife out without it catching any more wires," irritation now pouring out of him and nowhere to direct it. "Don't touch the blade, Jean. It might have been poisoned," he warned his friend before dropping his head in his flesh hand and let it rake over his features. "Winry's going to kill me," he muttered to himself as the rest of the team made silent, but weighted, eye contact at the mention of poison. "Damn Hakuro! That fucker totally knew that was going to happen…"

"Get in," Mustang commanded, cutting Ed off before he could discuss anything more. Havoc and Hawkeye took the front while their CO joined Ed in the back.

"Are you serious, Boss?" Havoc asked turning in his seat, throwing his arm over the backrest.

"He basically told me he was planning on a war breaking out right before he looked over to where the assassin came out of the kitchen. Fucking asshole was drunk as shit, but at least it gave me the few seconds' heads up I needed to make it there in time," Ed recounted for them as he fiddled with his new shoulder ornament, trying to dislodge it with a hiss.

"Start at the beginning, Fullmetal," Mustang ordered, pushing Ed's hand away as he took over the extraction effort. "Havoc, get us to the hospital then call Ms. Rockbell when we arrive and have her meet us as soon as she can."

Ed groaned at the anticipation of Winry's well deserved fit. She was going to be pissed that he had somehow, through no real fault of his own, destroyed her newest 'masterpiece.'

"Right," the tall blond confirmed, facing the steering wheel again and putting the car into motion.

Ed recounted his conversation with Hakuro around sharp intakes and low grunts before Mustang gave up the withdrawal attempt. While it wasn't a damnable piece of evidence they could use to court martial the fucker with (again), at least they knew what he was up to now. They just didn't know why.

"Well, that makes sense," Hawkeye said when he was done. "No wonder he didn't tell us about the Xingese contingent until they were almost here. He wanted Prince Ling to be assassinated. Then he could start a war."

"But why do that?" Havoc solicited.

"That's what I don't get. Wasn't Bradley publicly condemned for starting bullshit wars?" Ed asked his peers.

"Precisely. Why go down that same path?" Hawkeye asked.

"Must be something big to start a war with Xing. They're huge. Imagine the man power…" Havoc trailed off considering the size of the Xingese army. His lips worried the unlit cigarette he usually kept above his ear.

"But the emperor is still consolidating his power. Their central infrastructure and disorganized man power would put them at a disadvantage," Hawkeye calculated.

"Which is exactly why a war now would lead to an Amestrian victory," Mustang concluded, "but it would still be a long drawn out war."

"So why would anyone want to start a war who isn't even Führer?" Ed asked. "It's not like he can make those decisions from the State Department, right?" Ed asked looking out the dark window as they traveled through the center of Central, the weapon still smarting in his shoulder.

"No. He'd have to be Führer to lead an army in war time," Hawkeye answered, but did not sound relieved.

"What about during peace time?" Ed asked with trepidation as he felt his insides coil into a rock. "Is there a restriction on peace time leadership?"

"Come to think of it, since the Civilian Assembly took legislative power after Bradley's fall, they passed a law on how many years ranking peace time Generals can serve. Anyone above a Brigadier General…" Havoc let the thought hang unfinished as he and the others thought about the consequences.

"'Anyone above a Brigadier General' what?" Ed demanded not following whatever train of thought the rest of the group was on.

"Anyone above a Brigadier General was restricted to a five-year term beginning the January after I killed Bradley," Mustang said somberly as they pulled up to the hospital.

"Shit," Ed exclaimed. "Are you serious?! Why didn't anyone tell me that? So basically, once you get promoted you had better make your next promotion or what? You get kicked out of the army?" Ed was furious.

"Basically, yeah," Havoc confirmed. "That's why we have to keep track of how much support the Chief has. When Grumman retires, the Chief needs to be in position to become Führer." He pulled into a parking spot in the back of the empty hospital parking lot.

"What else are you not fucking telling me? What the hell else happened after I got stuck in Germany?" Ed spat turning to Mustang. "And why the fuck were you in an outpost in the north for two years, Corporal!?" The inside of the car became charged, almost oppressive. No one moved or made a sound. Ed just kept glaring at Mustang, but noticed Hawkeye and Havoc trade a look.

"We'll be inside, sir," Hawkeye announced before she and Havoc exited the car without another word, leaving them with the resounding thud of closing car doors. Ed looked at them in confusion and then back to Mustang for an answer.

"Well," he prompted, infuriated.

-8-

Taking in a deep breath, Roy sighed heavily centering himself before turning to face Fullmetal's anger. He knew this day would come, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be after his Colonel was impaled in a foiled assassination attempt.

"Five years ago, after you and I went our separate ways to chase our own demons, Hawkeye and I made it to Bradley's mansion like we planned." Roy opened, looking out at the darkened scene beyond the window over Fullmetal's shoulder, as he remembered that fateful day. "Hawkeye played decoy while I entered undetected."

Roy watched Fullmetal settled in, he seemed to realize instinctively that this would be a long story.

"Bradley sent everyone in the house to Central Command before our fight began. I used my flames, but he wouldn't stay dead. After killing him more times than I could count, he skewered me to a wall with his sword." Roy unconsciously touched his hand to his shoulder over the sword's long healed entry wound.

The golden man across from him inhaled sharply, following Roy's motion with his wide eyes.

"I thought I was going to die. He had me," Roy admitted distantly. "Then Salim, his adopted son, brought the homunculus something from their safe. It was a skull… It weakened him…" Roy faltered. He'd never known why it had given him the upper hand, but it had, and he was grateful for that.

"It was Bradley's skull, or at least the skull of whoever's remains he was transmuted from," Fullmetal supplied knowingly with a glint of a hidden emotion before it disappeared. It was barely there, but Roy saw it. Fullmetal gave an understanding nod for Roy to continue, but the older man's mind whorled.

The General absorbed the comment in conjunction with that look, finally understanding how the old chess pieces slid into place, just as he realized what it had cost the blond across from him to admit that bit of taboo knowledge. As a child, Fullmetal had transmuted his own mother and that homunculus no longer existed. Roy could see an old pain shining deep in golden eyes.

Thinking back, he realized he didn't know the fate of all seven homunculi they had been fighting. According to Fullmetal's encrypted message upon his return, he knew they were all dead; three (Envy, Gluttony, and Wrath) had been used to fuel interdimensional travel, while Roy himself had used Bradley's skull against the ex- Führer (Pride). However, he had never discovered how the two remaining unknown entities (Greed and Sloth) had met their ends, one of which he assumed had once been Trisha Elric.

Now he had a miserable inkling about her homunculus death. He'd have to confirm it later, but now was not the time. Plus, he did not want to dreg up more unpleasantness from Fullmetal's past. This was a briefing for his agent, not an inquiry into Fullmetal's deepest, darkest moments. He continued his story with a slow, acknowledging nod.

"The skull weakened him enough for me to finally destroy him, but not before he…" Roy took a deep breath before he was able to continue. "Not before he strangled Salim to death in front of me. I pulled the sword out of my shoulder and the wall, but I was too late," he recalled in an anguished whisper.

Dumbstruck, Fullmetal just sat there and watched as Roy tried not to break under his guilt.

"The Führer's mansion had caught fire from my flames, so I carried the lifeless boy out in my arms," he took a deep breath as the phantom body weighed heavy in his arms. "When I reached the front stoop, Frank Archer was there waiting for me. He shot me before Hawkeye could get there," he said, unconsciously moving his hand to his eyepatch. "It tore her up, but we tried to make it work. Turns out that she and I work better in the office than we ever did in the bedroom."

"You and Hawkeye?" Fullmetal gulped. Roy realized then that the object of his affection hadn't known he and his oldest friend had been a couple, however shortly. Shit, it must seem like the only person Roy wouldn't date was the man next to him in the dark and intimate space.

"Didn't last long," Roy mumbled, looking away uncomfortably.

Fullmetal was about to comment further, but Roy raised a hand to stop him, shaking his head before continuing the briefing.

"The Civilian Assembly was revived soon after that. They immediately began placing restrictions on the amount of power the State Military could have, including high ranking officials serving limited peace time terms."

"And how long is that," Fullmetal asked expectantly, thankfully refocusing on the problem at hand.

"Each position is allotted a 5-year term, unless unanimously voted upon, like Major General Armstrong. She was the first and only General to be elected to continue to protect the North at Briggs. She'll probably keep her post until she dies," Roy smirked to himself, not really looking at Fullmetal.

Roy was sure that the younger alchemist had never met the Ice Queen, but he was sure Fullmetal knew her reputation. She _was_ Briggs and the North. Everyone knew it, even the Drachmans, their uneasy neighbors to the north. It was no wonder that her position was secure.

"Since The Invasion, I have worked to house the displaced, rebuilt Central, and planned for the top. However, Hakuro has been playing a game for a while now, and I hadn't been able to figure out which one until now," Roy said, internally reviewing his superior's actions from earlier that evening.

"So Helen Avro was right. You were able to stop Hakuro from throwing out the tent city's residents," Fullmetal acknowledged his source and understanding of the situation.

"He tried to throw those dislocated after The Invasion out right before winter hit Central in full force. Luckily, I was able to get a few extra alchemists transferred in so that we could finish rebuilding before he could act," Roy bragged smugly.

"You know, Avro said all you would have had to do was claim a State of Emergency and you could have gotten anything you needed," Ed repeated what the head of Alchemic Affairs had told him.

"And have Hakuro know that was an option? Fullmetal, do you realize how slippery that slope is? The Major General could call a state of Marshal Law if he recognized how simple it was to do just that." Roy turned to Fullmetal, then realized that the golden man before him did understand.

"That's what I told the Avros, and that's what got them on your side," Fullmetal assured him.

"I see," Roy replied, glad that his subordinate had interpreted his actions correctly. "So that's what got them, huh? Good work, Fullmetal."

"Yeah. Turns out when people find out you aren't a complete bastard, you're easy to side with," Fullmetal acknowledged the praise. "So what else did I miss?"

"Well, next Hakuro arranged for Ling and the rest of the delegation to come stay in Central, but, like Hawkeye mentioned, he only told us when they were half way here. I thought he had just wanted to make us look bad for not being able to protect or welcome the Xingese royals properly. Now we know he was at least warned about this latest assassination attempt. I had no idea he wanted to start a war, much less use it to stay in power."

"Technically, doesn't he have almost…" he stalled, doing quick mental math, "11 years before they kick him out for not making it to Führer?" the young genius questioned, seeing a flaw in their logic. "Less than a year as a Major General and five years as a Lieutenant General, then another 5 as a full General, that is, if he gets promoted."

"But that's just it, Fullmetal. He isn't going to be promoted in the next year. He needs an unanimous vote from the Council of Generals, and he doesn't have the support," Roy corrected.

"So what you're saying is, with the January start date four and a half years ago, he has until the end of this calendar year to start a war? Then he can stay in the military, in power, as long as it's war time?" the brilliant mind clarified.

"So it would seem," Roy confirmed grimly, leaning forward on his knees and linking his fingers together, bringing them to his lips as they each considered the fallout.

"Well… shit." Fullmetal breathed.

Roy considered all they had figured out in the last hour. They were in for a difficult game, but if they could out play Hakuro or who was pulling his strings, they'd win. He imagined the chess board and where the pieces were, looking for a strategy forward, when Fullmetal cleared his throat, refocusing Roy's attention.

"You still haven't told me about what happened after I got stuck in Germany," Fullmetal pressed. "Helen Avro said you were in a northern outpost for two years as a _corporal_. The fuck, Mustang? What happened?"

Roy lapsed into his mask, wrapping it around him to hide his shame.

"You were in Central when I came home, so I didn't even know you'd left." Intelligent eyes followed his every movement as the pouting young man explained, obviously confused by the events that did not align with what he knew of Roy. "You were here when I came back on _Invasion Day_ … and we were in your office when I dreamed of you… when you dreamed of me… when we dreamed… well, you know…" he blushed, reminding Roy of their private, shared visions.

Roy wasn't sure if Fullmetal had told his younger brother much less anyone else, but Roy sure as hell hadn't. Not even Hawkeye. It wasn't like they had had another occurrence in over a year and a half… Roy secretly, desperately, wanted to know what had prevented them from continuing.

At first, he thought it had been completely unconscious, but there had been at least one dream in which the two had been fully aware that they were actually communicating. Another theory suggested that since they were in Amestris, there would be no further contact, but the dreams had stopped a full year before Fullmetal came home. Roy shook his head in defeat. He had no idea why they'd dreamed that shared space, much less how to reinitiate it, or even if he wanted to.

"Anyways, you were here when I came home, so what the hell is she fucking talking about, Bastard?" Fullmetal demanded meeting his eye, oblivious of his internal debate. Roy took a deep breath before he began nervously explaining what his Colonel wanted to know, not sure how Fullmetal would take any realizations.

"After killing Bradley, I fell into a depression during my recovery even though he was exposed as starting arbitrary wars and illegal experiments on citizens," he breathed. "I couldn't bring myself to go back to the way things had been. I still wanted to serve my country, but I couldn't lead anyone anymore. Not when I couldn't save the ones I was responsible for."

"'Ones?' Like who? Salim?" Fullmetal asked. Roy was aware his young officer knew the pain of not being able to save a child, like the Tucker girl, but clearly not understanding the plural Roy was using.

"Salim, Marco, Maes… you…" Roy confessed then continued in a rush turning rashly to face surprised golden eyes. "I sent you off to fight with some grandiose words and a feeble handshake, Fullmetal. You disappeared, and I could have stopped you. I should have, but I didn't."

The alluring young man sat there, seemingly stunned at the realization that Roy had blamed himself for his disappearance. Fullmetal licked his lips, and Roy couldn't help watching the motion.

"Most people thought you had died," he continued, flipping his eye up to golden ones that could ensnare him, "but I knew that couldn't be true. Not after I saw Alphonse restored. I didn't know at the time what you'd given up to make that happen, but I knew you were alive.

"I gave up my commission and my alchemy, though," he said, pulling his gaze away from Fullmetal's sultry eyes as he admitted to his weakness. "They had both cost too many lives, both here and in Ishbal. I couldn't move forward, and I tried not to look back. All I could do was become numb, living day by day… I'm not even sure why I kept going, except, if I'm being honest… I think I was waiting for you to come home," Roy confided with a nervous smirk, glancing up into amber eyes that could not be bleached, even in the darkened moon lit car. They looked into his soul, scorching him with their heat.

A golden eyebrow rose in disbelief. Roy was sure Fullmetal never expected his guard would drop like this. He watched as Fullmetal considered the implications of his last confession.

He had waited for Fullmetal to come home.

"Then I heard about the earthquake and Alphonse's fight with armored soldiers in Lior from Major Armstrong. There are no fault lines in Lior," he said flatly with a steady look. "I tried to get a hold of your brother, but Ms. Rockbell told me he had just left for Central. I knew something significant was coming, so I put in for leave and took the first train into the capital. Then, the simultaneous earthquakes in Lior and Central hit. And right on cue, you showed up."

Fullmetal's cocky smile nearly broke Roy's heart. He had fantasized about that smile, and in that moment, he wanted to reach out to the man in front of him.

"You showed up, but so did _The Invaders_ ," Roy's face fell, and he watched guilt grip Fullmetal's beautiful features. "I've trained my entire career for combat and strategy. I stepped back into my old self and snapped my fingers, setting the battlefield on fire. I organized the defense of Central, and then used that makeshift balloon to meet you, to fight alongside you.

"After it was all over and you came back out of that ship, I saw the look in your eyes..." Roy could see the memory clearly; it had been burned there, visited during cold winter nights in the forgotten frozen wasteland of his post. "I knew then you were leaving again, even before you told Alphonse. I understood it, but I hated it just the same. You brought me back to myself, and I had to watch you go for a second time."

Molten gold eyes were fixated on his face as he gave away the last of his secrets in this dark private space.

"Of course when you tried to leave Alphonse behind, he followed you," Roy chuckled. "But you left me again… left me behind to clean up the mess."

Fullmetal indignantly tried to interrupt, but Roy gave him a look that stopped him pre-rant. Fullmetal had hated returning to Germany, Roy had seen it in his eyes. The General knew that the blond alchemist had wanted to stay more than anything, but Roy had also understood that Fullmetal couldn't just close his eyes and pretend his wants were more important than the safety and security of everyone in his world. He had too big a heart for that.

"I closed the gate that same day. I felt guilty for closing your way home, but I hoped that you would find another way. The Council of Generals gave me back my stars and titles in return for that day. That's when Grumman gave you your first uncontested promotion. I dreamed of you soon after that, but you know that…" Roy trailed off. He was apprehensive now after having sharing so much, everything lain bare.

-8-

"Yeah," Ed agreed into the delicate space between them. They were being honest for the first time since Mustang had told him not to wait months ago. "It took me a while to figure those dreams out, though." Ed paused, thinking about how much he was going to share himself. It was equivalent exchange after all. The General had been candid, and he deserved the same from Ed.

"I thought they were just dreams, so I just ignored them." Ed made sideways glances at Mustang as he spoke, trying to give himself the privacy to remember yet keeping an eye on his companion's reactions. "Germany was a difficult place, especially with the Thule Society after me, but you were always there for me when it counted. I thought you were just a mental representation of myself - my own sounding board, my inner self, a resource of forgotten information, whatever I needed, actually…"

Mustang was nodding nonjudgmentally like he had also thought the same things, or at least he understood what Ed was saying. Ed realized how true his words were as he continued.

"…except you weren't really me; you were you." Ed rolled his eyes thinking he sounded ridiculous.

Geeze, wasn't Ed supposed to be a genius? 'You weren't really me; you were you?' What the hell was that? He chastised himself, but continued distractedly.

"I didn't figure it out until I told you to…" Ed quickly averted his eyes and clasped his hands tightly, feeling his whole face burn with embarrassment as he thought about his demand that Mustang kiss him.

He felt the weight of a warm hand on his thigh over the black wool of his suit jacket. Electricity stronger than any alchemic reaction he knew shot through him. Surprised, he turned to meet Mustang's gaze.

The older man brushed his other hand against Ed's cheek setting off pleasant tingles along the blond's back as Mustang's expression showed his longing. Soft, comparatively cool fingers soothed the heat in Ed's face, tracing the smooth pink panes there.

Golden eyes widened before rapidly blinking back the hope that Ed could have this moment. He knew they couldn't move forward now, as much as he wanted to, and to be honest, that's all Ed wanted. Gracia's words floated in his mind, '…if you want to have something different, you have to approach it differently, and that usually requires some change on your part.' There had to be a way forward.

Ed knew they couldn't do this now, no matter how much it hurt him. He also knew that he wanted nothing as much as he wanted this. He wanted the deep and broken, calm and calculating bastard in front of him, the man who was finally dropping the practiced façade he always wore.

Ed wanted Mustang; he wanted this, whatever 'this' was. He had crossed worlds to have it. And it was edging towards him.

Mustang was leaning forward, coming close enough that Ed could feel the humid, warm air of the brunet's breath glide over his skin. Inches were giving way as Ed parted his wanting lips and closed his eyes, leaning in.

Tap, tap.

Havoc rapped on the window and the spell that had fallen in the car was broken; they both startled apart.

"Uh, Chief, the doc needs to take a look at the Boss' shoulder. He said something about the risk of stripping or melting of the connection causing a fire hazard."

His General pulled further away from Ed with a frustrated sigh. At the same time, his CO released his leg and cheek.

"Mustang," Ed implored grabbing the man's arm before he could fully turn away.

"I'm sorry," the older man whispered. "I'm sorry, Fullmetal, I can't. I shouldn't have…" He pleaded for Ed to understand with a beseeching gaze. Too many were counting on him, and he had to sacrifice his own wants in service to those who had entrusted him with their lives. Ed could read it all there, clear as day, and it ripped at his chest.

Ed lowered his head and swallowed forcing his constricted throat to push his aching disappointment down. His rational mind was telling him that he only had to wait until the end of his military contract, but his wounded heart constricted painfully anyway. He blinked back the tears that were prickling at the corners of his eyes, let go his grip, and threw on his false smile, raising his head to face Mustang.

"Hey, don't sweat it," he cajoled. He was sure Mustang could see right through his mask, but they both needed to play along, otherwise this was never going to work. "I gotta get this taken care of before Al sees it and freaks out. Bad enough Winry's going to have to redo some of the melted wires," Ed hedged as he began to climb out of the car.

"Fullmetal," Mustang called in a rush.

"Yeah?" Ed stopped mid-exit, facing the man he wanted but couldn't have.

"Thank you," Mustang apologized.

Ed spread his false smile wider, trying to cloak his constricting heart in its false cheer.

"Sure," he affirmed. "I told you I'd wait, didn't I?" He reminded before he escaped the pained look of surprise on Mustang's face.

He took a few seconds facing away from Havoc to make sure he wasn't going to let any tears fall. He took in a deep breath, made sure his false smile was in place, then turned to the tall blond in his formal wear. He remembered his own ruined jacket and exhaled again.

"Alright, Havoc, lead the way," Ed indicated with his left arm, keeping himself from looking back at a haunting obsidian depth he wanted to dive into forever, but couldn't.

The youngest of the three tried to distract himself from the pain in his chest. They would have a lot to do at the office now that they knew the game Hakuro was playing. Ed just hoped that he could finish at the hospital soon, so he could be alone. He hated feeling like he was being a coward and hiding, but he doubted his bruised heart could take any more tonight.

Ed heard Mustang exiting the car, and he knew he wouldn't be able to take it if the older alchemist came in with him.

"I think I've got it from here, General. No need to wait around for a simple extraction. Go ahead and get on how we're gonna deal with the security at the embassy and Hakuro. I'll see you in the office tomorrow." Ed called over his shoulder, trying to let Mustang know he needed to be away from the man tonight without making eye contact.

"Right," Mustang resigned, and Ed could hear the older man's heart breaking. "Havoc, have Hawkeye come back when you see her. We need to handle tonight's events. Falman may need relief. I'll send another car for you and Fullmetal. Both of you need to be at the office tomorrow at 0800. I'm implementing Papa Hotel Bravo. Be ready."

"You got it, Chief," Havoc complied with a serious, if tired, salute before leading Ed inside.

"Papa Hotel Bravo?" Ed asked Havoc. He thought Hawkeye had drilled him in every code they had during her grueling office instructions, but he had never heard that one before.

"Yeah," Havoc drawled in his country accent. "Power Hungry Brass." He rubbed his own shoulder as he rolled his head, then turned to Ed. "Boss, you better get as much sleep as you can tonight 'cause you ain't gonna get any for a while."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. The rest of the story will really start to MOVE from here on in, so hold on tight!


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end have fun links

***Papa Hotel Bravo***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

Crumpled paper sailed through the air and landed in a pile of scattered fellows surrounding a waste bin. It was nearly 3 AM, and the entire team was running on fumes.

They were each slumped over in some form or another. Havoc was folded over his desk, arms outstretched and face down, while Breda was using his own arm as a pillow. Resting his head on the file cabinet next to him in the corner was Falman, and Fuery was nearly falling out of his chair, he was leaning so far over his arm rest. Ed had his feet crossed on his desk with his pocket notebook in his lap. Hawkeye was hunched over, pouring her 6th cup of coffee of the day as she leaned against the table where the pot usually sat.

Ed had taken to writing his thoughts in his notebook then ripping out and crinkling those that frustrated him, sending them on their way to the trash, literally throwing out bad ideas. He'd alchemically added more blank pages when he ran low, a trick he had missed in Germany.

As he threw another wadded sheet, he was glad that his arm moved freely once more with the fluidity of a natural appendage. After last week's assassination attempt, he'd had to pay for Winry to come out to fix it. She of course had ranted at him about destroying all her hard work, but she had refrained from braining him with her wrench when she arrived due to his brother's intervention. Ed had been grateful to Al for distracting their oldest friend with their new kittens and a warm hug.

While he and his brother had been in Germany, Ed had heard Al talk about Winry and their years together without him. During that time, Ed had suspected his brother's inclusion of the blue eyed blond in any conversation of home meant that Al was harboring deeper feelings for Winry than Al was willing to admit.

Since everyone in the small village of Resembool, including Al, had assumed Ed and Winry would get married when they got older, it had come as a shock for his younger brother to learn that Ed had only ever seen her as a sister. Naturally, Al's surprise and suppressed glee at the news had only confirmed Ed's suspicions: Al was in love with Winry, he just knew it.

As she rewired his detached arm, Ed had tried to unobtrusively leave the two of them alone. He worked from home silently in his study for the two days she had stayed with them, only emerging to retrieve his meals, eating them back in his office. The three of them had all eaten dinner together, so he hadn't neglected his sister completely, but he had wanted to give his brother the chance to woo the woman he loved without an audience.

Unfortunately, Winry had a single track mind: fixing 'her' arm. All Ed's efforts had seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Al also spent the time quietly studying. However, he did notice that the two were unnaturally close to each other at the table as they completed their individual tasks, so maybe it wasn't as one-sided as his brother had protested since their return from Germany.

Ed made the mistake of smiling to himself at the memory before seeing Hawkeye watch him miss his basket. She gave him a stern look that said, 'If you know what's good for you, you had better clean up your mess right now.' He breathed a sigh, then stood, pretending he was stretching before sliding his notebook into his pant pocket. Really, he was doing what she telepathically told him to do; she was scary.

They had been at this for hours. Actually, it had been like this all week, and his brain was feeling fuzzy.

"Remind me again why we're here, and Mustang gets to go home to sleep?" Ed asked as he disposed of his debris in the bin.

"He has an early morning meeting tomorrow, unless you want to speak with the Führer about the Red Stones," she offered.

"No thanks," Ed replied, "I'll pass."

The Stones had been appearing in more investigations since Ed first found them with The Collective and in The Row. The team had filled him in on the details of their original find, that The Stones had been found in the Forgotten City while Mustang closed the gate with a full brigade of 1500 men. Most of the soldiers had scoured the city, mapping and securing their locations. A few hundred men had spent weeks finding every sliver of the Red Stones, even those underwater.

Now The Stones were loose. Ed and Havoc had run into them on a mission here in Central in which the 'scientists' had been trying to use them to create human chimeras. By the time the rest of the team and Mustang had arrived, and the culprits had realized they'd been found out, they had tried to bring down the building they had been using, regardless of the civilians still inside.

Ed had stopped them, of course, but the press had overblown his heroism. He had simply stalled the deconstruction of the building long enough for everyone to get out. Then, once the crowd was clear, he reinforced it like he had his buildings in The Row before making the arrests with Mustang. Ed shook his head at their stupidity, both the 'scientists' and the press; looking back, that front page story with his and Mustang's picture had been the nail in Ed and Russell's relationship coffin.

Shaking himself out of his musings, he tried to focus his sleep deprived brain on the task at hand, the reason the team was here this late at night: figuring out the game board, who was playing, and which side the pieces were on.

Besides the Red Stones Mustang's team had found, Fairchild had also tracked their use to a field station near the Aerugo boarder to the south. Supposedly, The Stones had been found in the Watershed Alchemist's pocket watch, and Ed had immediately remembered the underhanded trick Colonel Frank Archer had used with Ed's own watch years ago, hiding the Stones in the compartment behind the clock face.

"So I talked to Avro about the use of Stones in State Alchemists' watches as a policy," Ed reiterated out loud as he headed back to his seat. "He had no idea what I was talking about and was so angry that Watershed had been found with Red Stones that he reassessed the guy yesterday."

"And how did it go?" Hawkeye asked before taking a sip of her coffee.

"He had less than satisfactory results," Ed smirked as he sat down and pulled out his notebook again.

"So he couldn't have gotten The Stones from Alchemic Affairs?" Havoc asked.

"Not if Brigadier General Avro reacted so publically against Watershed," Hawkeye reasoned.

"Couldn't that simple be a ploy?" Falman asked with his eyes still closed.

"Not likely. It was too fair. If he had been trying to throw Watershed to the wolves to save himself, he'd have revoked the guy's State Certification," Ed reasoned.

"So, are we still thinking that Hakuro is responsible?" Havoc asked.

"Yeah, but with Stones popping up in other investigations, I doubt he's working alone," Ed added with a yawn. Not to mention Grumman's warning to Mustang and him about someone protecting that fucker.

The teams' first big break on the case had been right after the latest assassination attempt on Prince Ling. The following Monday, the State Department had confiscated all materials related to the 'Jacobs' case along with the detainees Ed had captured in The Row. True, they hadn't said anything interesting, but the fact that the State Department was claiming it was a matter of State security meant that Hakuro was involved.

Sure it could be spun that The Stones were actually a national security issue, seeing as, when done right, the boost they gave the user increased alchemic output. That paired with the fact that other countries also had alchemists meant that, theoretically, if The Stones fell into foreign hands, it would be problematic for Amestris.

However, the countries to the north and south of Amestris, Drachma and Aerugo respectively, had very little in the way of an alchemic program, and Creta to the west was even suspicious of alchemists. The only credible threat was Xing, east of the vast desert that bordered Amestris, and they were too busy solidifying their power structure for the new emperor to be dealing in alchemical advancements. Plus, Xingese alkahestry was designed to be medicinal, not aggressive.

No, it felt like a stretch to the whole team.

The second clue they had was that the Watershed Alchemist had been on a diplomatic mission when he was detained for holding State's evidence linked to The Invasion. It was another connection to Hakuro's office, but nothing else.

"Well, I still think that since The Stones were recently transferred from Lieutenant General Raven's purview to Lieutenant General Gardner's, they should both be under investigation. Why would the Defense Department hand The Stones over to Research and Development now instead of when they had first been found? It's too much of a coincidence," Ed pointed out.

"What about Brigadier General Edison?" Falman weighed in. "The Department of Energy requested access to The Stones as well. Since Red Stones are supposed to be classified information at the Major General level, how did a Brigadier General know about them?"

While it was true Mustang and the gang knew about The Stones, their unit had been the team to find them in the first place. Brigadier Generals Avro and Fairchild also knew about The Stones, so maybe this was not as damning a piece of evidence, but none of the other Brigadier Generals had requested access to the Stones.

"Also, when I went to interrogate the two assassins Ed stopped, the Judicial Department had no record of them. That means that someone probably killed or disposed of them before erasing all records of the two Amestrian men," Breda shared.

That news sent a chill down Ed's spine.

"Who has the power to erase such high profile assailants?" Fuery asked.

"Papa Hotel Bravo," everyone else in the room replied. Their joint answer had become almost like a running joke in the office.

"In this case, probably Major General Clemins who runs the Judicial Department," Falman sounded wrung dry.

"What about the Xingese hit men?" Ed asked. "Where are they?"

"The three failed assassins that either Dragon's people or the General caught were in Xingese custody. Of course, before we could question any of them, these higher caliber killers had all taken their own lives in their shame or professionalism, depending on your outlook," Hawkeye stated flatly.

"Hm. Well, that's a clue, too," Ed noted. "If Xing is still sending their own assassins, then why are there Amestrian ones?"

"Do you think there could be an overall contract out for the prince's death?" Fuery asked.

"That seems unlikely, as the only would-be killers were Xingese or Amestrian," Hawkeye reasoned.

"Is there a concerted effort being made by the two governments or are there splinter leaders planning to kill Dragon?" Falman considered.

"If Dragon was killed in Amestris, then Emperor Li could attack, uniting his people behind him. Additionally, if Dragon was killed and Xing were to declare war on Amestris, the time constraints would be lifted for any position above Brigadier General. And since the war would be a lengthy one, seeing as the desert between our countries takes a full month to cross and the sheer number of Xingese troops available, the current Generals would be in power for the unforeseeable future," Hawkeye reasoned.

It made Ed's head swim at the nauseating possibilities.

"Well, Mustang and I cleared Avro and Fairchild at Ling's gala," Ed began checking off his 'To Do' list, the coded catalog of Central's 14 Generals in his notebook once more, this time 'learn chess' for his strategist CO, 'buy chalk' for the alchemic affairs chair, and 'buy cardboard boxes' for the man from The Row.

"Hawkeye and I checked on Major General Bell and Brigadier General Saro. So, we know Labor and Veteran's Affairs are clean," Havoc confirmed.

Ed crossed out 'work out' and 'wash blue jacket,' from the list of people and departments in front of him.

"I was able to vet Major General Harris," Falman toned optimistically.

"What department does he run again," Ed asked.

"Agriculture," Fuery supplied, and Ed nodded, crossing off 'buy groceries' from his 'To Do' list.

"Fuery and I looked into Major General Weiss and Brigadier General McDonnell. Weiss came up suspicious though, so he should be on the watch list, too," Breda told them.

"How so?" Hawkeye asked, curiously.

"The Commerce department had a few abnormal payments made before each of the latest assassination attempts. Could be that Weiss embezzled money to pay the contract killers, or it could be a project we've never heard of and be completely innocent. We'll have to dig deeper to tell," Breda explained.

"Hmm. Well, at least transportation's clear. It'd be a pain in the ass to have to deal with searching trains and shipments," Ed acknowledged as he drew a line through 'research buying a car.'

"Along with that," Hawkeye frowned, "Breda, you said the records of the assassins were erased from the Judicial Department?"

"Yeah, I couldn't find a trace of them," Breda confirmed.

"So Brigadier General Clemins needs to be watched as well," she lamented.

"That leaves General Fox in the Treasury and Grumman," Havoc ticked off the list.

"Well, tomorrow Mustang's assessing the old man while I'll be evaluating Fox, pretending to discuss funding for housing in The Row," Ed added, underlying 'go to the bank.'

They all looked at him, surprised.

"Yeah, I know it's a flimsy reason to talk to Fox, but it's the best we've got right?" Ed confirmed as the rest of them nodded. "Unless you guys have any better ideas?"

"He likes smokes," Havoc offered.

"Well then you should talk to him since you have that in common," Ed offered.

"No, he likes those big, fat cigars. Cigars and whiskey," Havoc hedged, obviously he didn't want to go talk to the General either.

"Well, I have some aged whiskey. Maybe I should bring it in…" Ed asked the room. They all seemed to consider it. Funding shelters or whiskey day drinking; it was a hard choice.

"Go with both, and follow his interests. See which he responds to," Breda suggested, and Ed nodded.

The room fell silent as they all considered the remaining problem at hand. The team needed to watch six shady members of the Brass while not appearing to be and assess another two: Lieutenant Generals Raven and Gardner, Major Generals Hakuro and Weiss, Brigadier Generals Clemins and Edison, as well as investigate General Fox and Führer Grumman.

Damn it. That was more than half of the fucking Brass!

"You know what I don't get? Why are any of the Brigadier Generals tied to this plot? Technically they're safe, so why risk their positions?" Ed asked.

"Not for long. As soon as they get a promotion, the same rules apply to them, too," Hawkeye explained.

"Hm. I guess so," Ed replied before yawning again. He stood, taking the trash to the fireplace, and fed the fire his crumpled notes. "Alright, well I need to get some sleep if I'm going to check out Fox tomorrow."

He heard snickering behind him.

"What? What'd I say?"

* * *

***Dinner?***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

Knock, knock.

Ed opened the door to the outer office of the Treasury, and poked his head in. A clean shaven man with a dark complexion and cherub cheeks smiled brightly at him as he entered.

"Hello, I'm Edward Elric here to see General Fox," he introduced himself with his winning smile in place.

"Hello, Mr. Elric," the man smiled coyly back. "I'm Terrance Northrop, General Fox's assistant, but you can call me Terry."

"Terry, nice to meet you. Call me Ed," he winked, hoping it wasn't too much, but the guy had started it, acting all shy and flirtatious. "Is the General free? I have an appointment with him," Ed wavered.

He wasn't sure he would ever get used to people flirting with him. Maybe he should ask Breda about sending out a press release that he was dating someone so everyone would just back off or would that be too weird?

He hadn't even done that when he and Russell were dating; now he wondered if his ex-boyfriend had a point about not making it a point to tell the world he was taken. Whatever. He had just wanted a quiet private life, and now he was single again, so what did it matter really?

"General Fox will be with you in a minute. He's on a conference call with a few of the other Generals," Terry claimed. "So, Ed, got any plans for tonight? Want to get some dinner later?"

"Sorry, Terry, but unfortunately, I have some prep work to do night," Ed lied. That was fast; he hadn't been here for five minutes and he was already getting asked to dinner.

"Too bad. Raincheck?" Terry asked hopefully.

"Sure," Ed replied, keeping his winning smile. Maybe if he struck out getting the information he needed from Fox he could get it from Terry. He'd watched Mustang do this enough times over the years to know the run down.

Terry's grin widened, but a buzzer interrupted whatever he was going to say.

"Terry, has Fullmetal arrived yet?" He asked distractedly.

"Sir, he just arrived. Should I send him in?" Terry winked back at Ed.

"Oh, yes, do that. Then get me the budget report from Commerce," came the disembodied voice.

"Well, I guess that's my cue. See you soon," Ed affirmed as he left Terry's desk for the double doors to the right.

"Can't wait," Terry called after him as he entered the inner office.

Ed walked through the entryway, closed the door behind him, and stepped to the center of the room.

"Sir," Ed saluted as he took in the large white room. It held a few chairs, an imposing desk, and a wall of books. Behind the desk, Ed spied a large globe that was opened around the equator; it held a number of alcoholic drinks and a number of tumblers.

"Ah, Fullmetal, come in," Fox beckoned from behind his desk. The heavy set man had small eyes, a large nose and sideburns that fed into his thick, dirty blond mustache. "So what can I do for you, young man?"

"Well, I had wanted to talk with you about funding State housing for residents of The Row," Ed prompted but noticed the small frown that grew on Fox's face, so he modified his tactics. "But I thought I would ask you a personal question first."

"Oh, really?" Fox looked more intrigued by the change of topic.

"Well, sir, a little birdy told me that you were a coinsurer of fine whiskey. I've been debating with a friend of mine about the pros and cons of the best spirits, and he said, 'a man isn't worth his salt if he can't tell a bourbon from a whiskey.'"

Fox laughed at that, and Ed pressed his advantage with a shy smile.

"And, I happened to receive a bottle of aged whiskey recently," Ed alluded.

"And you wanted to see if I was worth my salt?" Fox laughed again. "Damn, son, you have some balls on you!" He chuckled. "Have a seat, and I'll show you the difference." Fox turned in his chair to the drink bar, pulling a few tumblers and bottles from the case. "Never thought someone would ever ask me for a drink at work."

Ed smiled as he pulled out his own bottle from his inner jacket pocket before he sat. When Fox faced Ed again, he took in the whiskey the younger man had brought.

"Damn, son. This is good stock. Where'd you get this?" Fox praised, impressed, looking up from the cut glass bottle.

"My friend Halling out East gave it to me," Ed answered.

"Good friend," Fox nodded as he replaced the bottle and picked up one of his own then began to pour them each a finger's worth. "See, the trick is that bourbon needs to be at least 51% corn and stored in charred oak barrels, not to mention the proof it needs to be at different stages of the whole process," Fox explained as he pushed a glass towards the young man across from him.

Ed picked up his glass and inhaled the scent of vanilla, noticing that Fox approved of the move. He raised his glass in a toast, waiting for the burly General to clink his tumbler.

"To Amestris," Ed offered.

"To Amestris, long may she live," Fox agreed with a pensive smile, bumping his drink with Ed's.

The sweet taste met Ed's tongue as the heavy texture filled his mouth.

"Smooth," Ed toned appreciatively. "Is that caramel and oak?"

"Glad you noticed," Fox said offering a second glass. This one was lighter in color than first. "Now try the whiskey."

Ed took the other cup and raised it again for another toast, but this time he waited for Fox to offer the tribute.

"To peace," Fox stated determinedly as he brought his own whiskey to Ed's.

"To peace, long may she reign," Ed nodded resolutely before he took a sip. The amber liquid slid over his taste buds. "Tastes smoky with a hint of sweetness, but the woodiness is different," Ed analyzed the flavor.

"Good. Now let's try yours," Fox approved, pouring Ed's bottle into two clean tumblers.

"So, how did you learn all of this?" Ed asked, being sociable.

"Years and years of practice, son." Fox smirked, but his eyes grew distant. "I've been thinking about starting a distillery when I retire," Fox confessed absently.

"Oh yeah?" Ed prompted as he took up his new glass, and smelled it. The alcohol smelled of vanilla, but fainter this time.

"Afraid there is not much for a General to do during peace time, especially after the old heave-ho," Fox sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

Ed raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"Oh, I'm all for peace, son," Fox assured as he noticed Ed's look, "and I'm glad to have your help in keeping it. I just miss the days of feeling like I was doing something meaningful."

"What do you mean, sir?" Ed asked.

"Come now, son. Call me Daniel already. You've had my bourbon and whiskey for crying out loud! It's the least you can do," he chuckled deeply.

"Ok, but only if you call me Ed," the young alchemist proposed with a comradery.

"Deal," Fox agreed with a toothy grin, and they clinked glasses again before each taking a sip.

"Daniel, what did you mean 'something meaningful?'" Ed asked after a moment. "You run the treasury. That's a big deal."

"It might seem like it to you, Ed, but to a man of action, paperwork and meetings lead to a stifling life. I miss the days of my youth, protecting people, and making a difference. Changing the rate of investments by a quarter percent here or there doesn't help the people as much as I want it to," Daniel lamented. "Now, Ed, I know you didn't come in here just to have a drink with me."

Ed was stunned by the blunt statement, but covered it with a sheepish version of the winning smile he was perfecting.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that you respect the display of a meeting like this, but tell me, Ed, what can I do for you?" Fox asked a little more openly than they had started.

"Well, it may not seem like a lot, Daniel, but every cenz means something to the people in The Row. Every cenz means another meal, means another mouth fed, means someone isn't going hungry tonight."

They looked at each other for another moment, then they each took a sip of Ed's whiskey, tasting honey and oak.

"Well, you got the gift, son. Alright, alright. We'll fund a few more of the shelters," Fox gave in, "but I'm going to need something from you in return."

"And what's that?" Ed asked with apprehension in his gut but a pleasant smile for the older man. The last time a member of the Brass asked him for a favor, he had spent two weeks touring the country going to those bullshit 'thank you and welcome home' ceremonies.

"I need you to look at the budget with me tonight," Fox said without apology.

"Huh?" Ed was surprised.

"If you want the money, you have to help me find some," Fox explained. "I'll order in dinner for the two of us."

"Dinner tonight," Ed repeated noncommittally. That was two invitations in under one hour from the same office. It seemed a little too coincidental.

"That's right. Why? Got other plans for your Wednesday night, Ed?" Fox asked in a joking tone.

"Actually, I was telling Terry out there," and Ed saw an annoyed look cross Fox's features, "that I have some prep work to do tonight, but I can meet up tomorrow night to go over the numbers with you then," Ed hedged.

He wasn't sure what was happening, but it seemed like Fox wanted to spend more time with him. He just wasn't sure if Fox had told Terry or not to try and get some alone time with him, too. Could it be that Fox was trying to whittle information out of Ed the same way Ed was trying to get information out of Fox?

"Then tomorrow works for you? You can come at end of day, and we can order in food when we get hungry," Fox asked.

"Sounds like a plan, Daniel. And thanks for the drinks," Ed said as he put away his whiskey in his jacket pocket and stood. "See you then," Ed called as he made his way to the door.

"Until tomorrow, and you're welcome," Daniel replied as Ed waved bye, leaving through the large doors.

"Bye, Terry. See you soon," Ed waved to the General's assistant before opening the outer door.

"Bye, Ed," Terry smiled and twittered his fingers at Ed as the blond left just like Betty did.

He left the door slightly open and kneeled, as if he was tying his shoes. Ed strained to hear the buzz of the intercom. He could barely make out the conversation, but it sounded like Fox was saying something.

"…should have waited to ask him out, Terry," an annoyed Fox toned.

"But, he's coming back tomorrow, so we can assess what they're up to then, right?" Terry asked defensively.

"… imperative… what Mustang and Elric… up to… can't let… happen again. And bring me… Commerce expense report…" The intercom squawked before it went dead.

Hm. Ed considered what he had heard as the connection broke. He walked quickly away down a side hallway so that if Terry came to close the door, he wouldn't see Ed's retreating back. Ed couldn't let them know he had overheard their conversation.

He needed to get back to the team and let them know the situation.

* * *

***Debriefing and planning***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

"Are you drunk, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, surprised by the smell of alcohol coming off of the young blond man as he entered the outer office to give his report to the team. It was the end of the business day, but it was no excuse to be intoxicated.

"No, but I did have a few drinks with Daniel, I mean General Fox," Fullmetal replied defensively.

"Explain," Roy ordered as he crossed his arms and leaned against the coffee station, having an idea.

"Well, we needed to have Fox checked out," the bond alchemist began, indicating for the rest of the team to agree. They all nodded and murmured their affirmation but kept watching their two commanding officers across the expanse of the outer office, like a tennis match.

"And that required day drinking on duty?" Roy asked, and the room went silent.

"Well, the only cover story we had was either State funding for Row shelters or his interest in whiskey," his Colonel offered.

"Looks like you over did it, Fullmetal. Sit down and start from the beginning," Roy commanded, annoyed. Maybe he should have handled Fox himself. The man had a reputation for glad handing over his coveted whiskey stash.

"Well," Fullmetal said as he crossed the room to his desk and sat, "after preliminaries, we shared a few drinks and then talked about Row funding. He said I would need to come back and look over the budget with him to find the money, but I doubt that's what he really wanted to do. I heard him and his assistant, Terry, after I left. They would go to any lengths to get me back in there."

Roy raised an eyebrow, wondering if the General had made an inappropriate advance on Fullmetal. It reminded Roy of the coded list the young alchemist had given him of those who had tried to blackmail the amber toned youth, and a night playing cat and mouse with Hakuro a few months ago.

Golden eyes caught Roy's look. It seemed he knew where the older man's mind went, so Fullmetal made eye contact and shook his head. He didn't seem to want Roy to worry, but Roy also understood that the young man might not want to explain more explicitly to the rest of the team.

"Elaborate, Fullmetal," Roy stated, nodding once to acknowledge Fullmetal's sly message, but he was still trying to figure out why the young man was being vague. If not that, then why be evasive? Roy wanted to ask.

Fullmetal fiddled with his white gloves, embarrassment written loud and clear by body language about his interactions in the Treasury.

"Well?" Roy said, losing patience.

"Um…" the Colonel began, seeming to stall.

"Spit it out, Fullmetal," Roy ordered through gritted teeth.

"Uh…" Ed rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked at the ground. "Fox had Terry ask me out as a safety net," he admitted as pink dusted his tan cheeks, "in case Fox couldn't get me to come back on his own."

Roy hid his surprise behind a smirk while Havoc and Breda doubled over in laughter.

"They want to know what we're up to. Fox was also asking Terry for the Commerce expense report," Ed added in a rush. "It's mid-month, so they should've already reviewed last month's, unless it's the year-to-date file. In that case, it could mean they've caught the same thread we did."

"So… they're trying… to honey bait Ed… with Terry?" Havoc hooted around deep draws of breath.

"Shut up, Havoc," Fullmetal rejoined, blushing a deeper pink and crossed his arms across his chest, turning his face to hide in his bangs.

"Uh-hem," Hawkeye cleared her throat and glared at Havoc and Breda, bringing the room to order again. "What do you think they are after, Edward?"

"I tried to over hear their conversation when I left, but I only caught part of it. They said something about not letting something happen again and Fox wanted that report," the reddish color left his face as he tried to remember it all. "I think Fox is trying to figure out what we know. The fact that he wants the expense report might mean that he, too, noticed that something is off with their books. He may be playing a game, but I don't think it's the same one as this plot. I'll know more tomorrow, when I go over the budget with him after work."

The room considered Fullmetal's answer thoughtfully, that is, except for Havoc who was still smirking at him like a gloating child.

"Did you learn anything about Grumman?" the youngest officer in the room asked him, redirecting the conversation.

"He's clean, but he knows there's a coup d'état brewing. He's increasing his personal security. As soon as we know who else is involved, I'll pass it along. I just hope we're not too late," Roy let the gravity of the situation reach his men; Havoc stopped smiling.

"Orders, sir," Hawkeye asked.

"Keep on your guard. Continue to watch over those we have already identified as potential Papa Hotel Bravo candidates. Do so as a team; use a rotating point person. Hawkeye set the schedule. I'll monitor Hakuro, and Fullmetal, you stay with Fox. Report back as soon as you have any information."

The blond alchemist nodded at the order without protest.

"Get some chow and report back to Hawkeye for assignments," Roy commanded his men.

"Sir," the room responded before each turned to leave.

"Fullmetal, I need to see you in my office before you leave," Roy called to the man as the meeting ended.

Golden hair spun around and the young man raised his amber eye brow, but Fullmetal seemed to understand that Roy wanted to have a private debriefing that was attached to his earlier quiet inquiry.

-8-

Up until now, Ed thought he and Mustang had been doing really well. Neither had broken any of their unspoken rules. One of which was don't be alone together unless they could help it, and another was no flaunting their dates in front of the other.

Ever since Ling's gala this latest rule had gone into effect, and Ed was thankful. He had told the General he was waiting, and apparently, Mustang had heard Ed enough not to discuss his social calendar in front of the blond anymore much less, flirt. Ed on the other hand had no social life to speak of outside of the office except for Al, the team, and the Hughes on family dinner nights.

Ed crossed the threshold to Mustang's office, feeling slightly nervous. He hoped he could dispel any lingering doubt the older man had about someone sexually harassing him again. It was weird for Mustang to be explicitly protective.

-8-

"Close the door," Roy instructed as flatly as he could, trying to not let his concern filter through.

After doing as he was told, Fullmetal flopped down customarily on his seat on the couch.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about? Nothing happened, I swear," the blond babbled in a rush.

Roy found it adorable that he was being defensive. It probably had something to do with their non-verbal communique earlier as well as the young man's embarrassment that Terry had asked him out followed swiftly by having to report that fact to Roy. It was awkward.

"No unacceptable advances?" Roy couldn't help but ask again. He wasn't sure if Fullmetal had shook his head 'no' previously to say 'nothing happened' or to delay the report, not wanting to say so in front of the others.

"I just thought that Terry trying to get me to dinner and then Fox having me come back to go over the budget over dinner was a little suspicious." Fullmetal leaned down to his habitual laying position and looked at the ceiling. "When I left, they were talking about how Terry jumped the gun in asking me out."

"Did you agree to dinner with Terry?" Roy asked, then realized he sounded jealous. "It might be our best bet to get additional information."

"I got a raincheck," Fullmetal muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Originally, that's what I thought at first, too, but… Actually, that's what ended up tipping me off. Besides both of them asking me to dinner, when I mentioned Terry's invitation to Fox, he tried to cover up that he was upset.

"After I left, Fox snapped at Terry for having asked me before he had gotten me to come back on his own. I think Fox is aware he might have alerted me to what's going on. If I ask Terry to cash the raincheck, then Fox may get more suspicious and the whole thing could backfire."

"What else did you two talk about? Not just whiskey and The Row, I'm sure," Roy fished. There had to be more Fullmetal had gleaned to come to his earlier conclusion that the man was not in on the coup.

"I don't know, Mustang," he swished his gloved automail in the air, dismissively. "I kept getting mixed signals from him. One minute he was talking about his retirement, then he was saying he wasn't contributing to the good of the people as much as he wanted to, and then that he was all for peace."

"It sounds like he was saying all the right things," Roy confessed, but was confused by his agent's reserved judgement. "So why do you think he warrants a more in depth investigation?"

"Well, it was too on the nose, like he knew why I was there," Fullmetal tried to explain.

"He has been in the military his whole career. He could have been," Roy acknowledged, leaning back in his chair with his index finger hooked across his lips and his thumb curled under his chin.

"Yeah, and he said something that could be taken two ways; he said there's 'not much for a General to do during peace time, especially after the old heave-ho.' It could mean he's bored or listless. Which probably means 1) he's in on this ploy, or 2) he's planning on what to do after he retires. I won't know which way he's leaning until I get to the bottom of that statement."

"Just be careful, Fullmetal," Roy warned.

Golden hair swirled as the young morsel on his couch twisted over on the couch's arm and looked at him with surprise, and maybe a hint of pink back in his cheeks.

"Meet me at Madam Christmas' bar when you're done, and we'll see what needs to be done after that," Roy ordered straightening in his seat, considering the ramifications if Fox was implicated, and definitely not thinking about running his fingers over that blush to feel its warmth spread under tan skin.

Roy could see the wheels turning in Fullmetal's head as the young man raised an eyebrow at him. Madam Christmas' bar was a well-known high-end brothel, it should not surprise Roy to know that Fullmetal recognized the establishment run by his aunt.

"Don't give me that look, Fullmetal. It'll give you the excuse you need to leave if you need one, and I can debrief you as soon as possible. That's all," Roy assured. "Besides, it's the only safe after-hours location we can trust. We are not the only ones listening to the breeze, you know."

"Uh, huh. Sure, Mustang. Whatever you say," Fullmetal teased with a smile before turning back over on the couch and stretched.

Roy groaned. He took a second, and realized he should have retorted with something witty, but it just felt like if he denied it too much, he would look more foolish. 'Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,' the old quote rang true in Roy's mind. Not that either of them could be considered a lady, especially not with Fullmetal's smart mouth, but the sentiment stood.

Even still, Roy had gone out of his way to make sure not to be alone with Fullmetal unless they needed to discuss work. He strived hard not to cross the invisible boundary they had begun to develop right before returning to Central from that 'Welcome Home and Thank You' tour.

Roy had even stopped dating since Ling's gala. Roy hadn't realized until that night that Fullmetal was actually waiting for him. He had been surprised, as those throwing themselves at the attractive young blond were numerous; Roy had just assumed it was natural for Fullmetal to take advantage of his situation.

Thinking back, the fan mail had been piled high in the office after the national disclosure that the gorgeous and intelligent Fullmetal was single; in fact, it still made Breda laugh and Havoc swear. Roy had heard the team joking about Fullmetal being a flirting prodigy after they had gone out for his 21st birthday, and Roy had seen the man's congeniality during his press conference and public appearances.

It was hard not to notice. Although, Roy had avoided thinking about his Colonel's bedpartner, the Elder Tringham. While neither of them had mentioned Russell since the couple's public tiff in the First Branch National Library, Roy liked it that way; out of sight, out of mind.

However, after Ling's Gala it had been a surprise to hear that Edward Elric was waiting for him. Obviously, that meant that the Elder Tringham was out of the picture; Roy sincerely doubted that Fullmetal was the cheating type. He was far too loyal for that.

He should have known Fullmetal would have waited, but with that much attention, Roy had been sure the young man would have moved on from his original interest quickly with all the distractions. But that wasn't who Fullmetal was, and Roy should have known better. Fullmetal was hardly one to give up easily.

It was daunting: to be waited for. Roy felt unworthy of deserving someone, much less someone who would wait for him. Fullmetal's little tease had brought the whole idea to the forefront of his mind, and now that was all he could think about.

Trying to dispel the idea, Roy shook his head. However, when he did, he caught sight of golden hair cascading down from the arm of the couch, and his fingers itched to touch it. Instead, Roy retracted his fingers into fists and stood to look out the window.

-8-

Ed was smirking to himself at his win. He had openly commented on Mustang's choice of location to be debriefed, and had gotten Mustang tongue tied. He had a brief moment to enjoy his satisfaction, folding his arms behind his head and crossing his ankles.

"So what do you think will get Fox to open up?" Ed asked after a while to fill the empty space between them. He was becoming nervous again, being alone with Mustang with the door closed knowing that the others would be back soon.

-8-

Roy considered the question. The only interactions he had with Fox were on the parade grounds and in council meetings. He was overly urbane during the former, and kept his deliberations to himself while asking insightful questions during the latter.

Roy had nothing but gossip to go on, and while that could give him the upper hand when he knew the target better, the fact was he knew little about the older General.

"I'm not sure. How did you approach him the first time?" Roy inquired, honestly interested.

"Well, I opened with the Row, but since he began to frown at that, I went with whiskey. I told him I had heard about his interest and then I explained that a friend of mine said 'a man worth his salt can tell a bourbon from a whiskey.' He laughed at that and told me he'd show me the difference. Hence the day drinking."

"It was a good ploy, Fullmetal. Nicely done," Roy praised, impressed.

"Thanks," the Colonel replied and smiled, "but now I have to go back to review the budget. I could point out the strange numbers in Commerce, to let him know that we are on the same page and that it wasn't us."

"That could work," Roy commented, considering that approach. "Of course, he could take it as you showing him a false lead to gain his trust."

"True. Hmm," Fullmetal hummed. "What about the rest of the coup? Do we tell him immediately if he's on the up-and-up?" Ed asked.

"If you think he could be trying to trap you into disclosing information, it might be wise to withhold everything for now. However, from what you've said, it seems he knows something is amiss. You will need to push him harder."

"Well, that could be tricky," the blond considered as he crossed his arms across his chest and unconsciously bit down on his gloved right thumb.

"Agreed," Roy concurred but tried to think of any advantage he could give his agent.

"Got any manipulative tricks up your sleeves you care to share?" the brazen young man asked, turning to face to Roy again, resting his chin on his left hand. "You're good at this type of bullshit."

"Thank you, Fullmetal," Roy said sarcastically as he met alluring golden eyes in the window's reflection.

"You know what I mean," he said waving his right arm to dispel Roy's faux musk of scorn. "You can get people to tell you just enough to hang themselves. I feel like I'm still learning how to play the game."

"Well, you got that rat Yoki with a bit of trickery, if I remember correctly," Roy smiled at the report Hawkeye had given him years back.

"Who?" Fullmetal asked. "The name sounds familiar, but I can't place it."

"That corrupt lieutenant I had you inspect before I went out East. It was under the guise of looking at the Youswell mines," Roy reminded Fullmetal.

"Oh yeah," soft chuckles floated to Roy's ear. "I forgot about him. Hey, so you already knew he was dirty before you sent me out there? You bastard."

"Honestly, how did you not know?" Roy laughed too. "Why would I have sent you to investigate a mine, Fullmetal?"

The young man paused for a moment as he thought it over, then laughed at Roy's manipulation and strategy.

"Ha, ha! You got me," Fullmetal said raising his hands at the obvious ploy he had missed in his youth. "Naw. That idiot made it easy; he just assumed I was as corrupt as he was and wouldn't stop blabbering about how he ran everything. I didn't have to say anything for him to assume I was on his side; he was that arrogant. Fox is smarter than that," the young genius compared their opponents, both past and present.

"Still, it could work. Let Fox talk at you then, and see where his loyalties are. Then come meet me. I'll want a full report," Roy ordered.

"Fine, but after I'm done, you're buying me a drink. After looking through pages of budgetary numbers, I think I'm going to need it."

On the way home, thinking over their conversation, Roy might regret Fullmetal's last condition.

* * *

NOTES:

So many Generals in Central, so little time. I think I have mentioned this before, but here is a list of the ranking order of generals:

Führer

General

Lieutenant General

Major General

Brigadier General

I have the hierarchy figured out, who reports to whom, who is in who's chain of command. I've posted it on my [Tumblr](https://storylip.tumblr.com/post/155353267343/ok-so-i-have-a-fanfic-called-keep-moving) (not sure what I am doing there- hahaha, but I am). I also have a pintrest with a ["My FMA Fan Fiction Resources"](https://www.pinterest.com/storylip/my-fma-fan-fiction-resources/) board in case anyone wants to see it. Enjoy.

I totally didn't mean to have a social media deluge for this fic. It just happened! Hahaha!

 


	45. Chapter 45

***Nice place you got here***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

Stepping out of the cab, Ed straightened his jacket and folded it over his arm. Summer in Amestris really was hot. He paid the driver, who waged his eyebrows at the young man before maneuvering the car back onto the main street.

When Ed had told the man his destination, the cabbie had smirked and had begun to tell him the juiciest gossip: which big wigs he had taken to Madam Christmas' place.

Ed found the short drive to be an extremely long ride.

Anyways, he was here now, sure that his name would be added to the cabbie's list. The friendly man behind the wheel might even sell the story to the papers or just as easily give the scoop away to the next fare. Not much else Ed could do about that since he had no idea where this unassuming bordello was located, but it was going to be a pain in the ass if the press did get a hold of it. Damn it, but how else was he supposed to get here?

It was on this back street, tucked away from the hustle of Central's main square and a few short blocks from the military barracks, that he found himself now. Banal and unassuming, the multistoried structure seemed to blend into its surroundings, as should any discreet high class brothel.

The windows were framed in an off-white, but there was nothing that would indicate that this was the building he was meeting Mustang at, except for the plain numbers next to the door that matched the address for which he was looking, that and the door handle. The nondescript street entrance boasted an intricately carved metal handle against the plain cream of the facade. The floral design was in shadow, but he noticed it's relief as he took the handle and turned.

Ed sighed heavily with apprehension and walked in the front door. Once inside the foyer with solid wood closing behind him, Ed was surprised by elegant fixtures. While there was the obligatory red velvet curtain, it hung welcomingly above and tied off to the side of the main egress leading to the rest of the building.

The rich, polished wood doorway was accented with the same inlay as the metal handle but was created with an artist's remarkable hand. An intricate arrangement of exotic woods of various tones and shades formed a blooming rose that Ed realized must be the house motif. While the walls were an off shade of white, the inviting yet elegant atmosphere was punctuated in every detail of the room, from the throw pillows and wingback chairs to the window dressings.

He was instantly greeted by a very pretty and curvaceous petite woman with raven hair, fair skin, and stunning deep blue eyes. She met him at the door, all smiles to steal Ed's breath away.

-8-

"Hello there, handsome," she cooed at her new guest with a genuine interest. His golden eyes were captivating; she'd never seen anyone with that coloring before. "Can I take your coat?" she asked with slightly outstretched hands.

"Yeah, thanks," replied the gorgeous young man with a nervous but captivating smile. It was obvious he wasn't sure what to say, though. "I'm here to meet someone," he explained as he handed her his charcoal jacket.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," she giggled playfully.

"Oh, uh, that's not what I meant," he blushed lightly. He really was cute, especially with that pink in his cheeks. Every first-timer was, but he had an additional charm that struck her with fondness.

"Oh?" She asked curiously as she hung up his coat in the front hall and returned to him, noting he kept his white gloves on. She wondered what would have brought such a catch to The Rose Garden if not for the sensuous company.

"I'm supposed to meet someone at the bar," he explained. "It's just drinks." His defensiveness was adorable. She had seen and done wilder, more exciting, things than having innocent drinks, and had been looking forward to a chance to bed this golden man radiating a powerful energy, so she was disappointed to lose the opportunity.

"Too bad," she winked. "If you change your mind, I'd _love_ to show you around The Garden," she offered. "By the way, I'm Sapphire," she said.

"I'm Edward E…" he began.

"Ah-ah-ah," she gently cut him off, stepping into his personal space with a mischievous grin. "First names only, Edward," she said, taking his arm and leading him into a large salon.

The refined, nevertheless inviting, space was lit by her favorite crystal chandelier floating enchantingly above a divided Borne settee. It was upholstered in filigreed white on white over the rounded cushions, along the four arms to the wooden ends, and up the central high back of the quartered round couch. A grand staircase met them, framing the left wall of the room's wide space. The two story parlor was filled with her beautiful, smiling coworkers.

Nooks and private sitting spaces were situated along the outline of the room. These were occupied with guests and Gems, getting acquainted before heading into The Garden or simply looking for amicable company.

When Sapphire threaded her hand through Edward's crooked right arm to guide him, her eyes widened just a fraction at a surprising discovery. Automail. He was even more interesting than her initial appraisal; someone as young and striking as he was had an expensively crafted metal arm and was having platonic drinks in Central's most prominant brothel. When he saw her recognition, she answered with an apologetic smile.

"Not every day do I meet a man with such marvelous strength," she replied then clarified her comment once she saw disagreement in his golden eyes. "It takes an especially resilient man to stand back up after tragedy strikes."

He nodded and smiled politely, but said nothing. Sapphire noticed he tried to seem relaxed as she guided him past the alluring looks from interested patrons, but she could see the strain in his jaw as he noticed the way both customers and residents alike watched him with naked lust.

Men and women dressed enticingly, yet respectably, were scattered throughout several conversational areas around the lounge with their guests, their rose etched medallions shown prominently in pierced ears, along necklines, or pinned to breast lapels. They all gave her approving or jealous glances as she walked her guest towards the left hall.

"The bar is this way; I'll take you, so you're sure not to get lost," she offered with a smile, curious as to whom he would meet at a house of ill repute if not an hourly bedmate.

"Any other rules I should know about?" Edward asked her with a delicious smile.

"You learn quickly," she reciprocated with quirked full lips and an impish squeeze of his mechanical bicep. "What happens here stays here, so no peeking and no tattling. Be kind to the Gems and we'll be kind in return. If you are interested in a Private Tour of The Garden, all you have to do is ask, and we'll make sure you leave satisfied." She promised him imaginative pleasure with sultry eyes, and he nodded his understanding of her implicit directions.

Sapphire led them left through the main parlor then down a dimmed hallway to the first egress on the right. It opened into a smaller lounge with a long, fully occupied wooden bar on the far wall. The same elegant wood from the entry basked in warm light. High quality liquor was displayed prominently with a sophisticated edge against the carved wood and filigreed mirror display.

She watched his eyes roam over those seated along its curved length, presumably looking for his companion. Heads bobbed as murmured words filled the inviting space of The Pond; plush dark green velvet armchairs were situated along the walls with small wooden tables between them. The same rich fabric covered the bar stools, too. The room owing its name to the green fabric and liquid courage, much as a pond had lilly pads on the water's surface.

Before she could capture her escort's attention again, a mocking smirk aimed at her companion caught her eye. Sapphire's 'brother,' Brigadier General Roy Mustang, silently raised a hand in greeting from the bar's edge. His acknowledgement prompted her surprise and a watchful head popped up a few seats away.

House etiquette generally kept patrons from interrupting 'Gems of the Garden' and their guests, for privacy and anonymity. In that same vain, guests only gave their first names and each resident used a pseudonym, individually named after a precious stone and collectively called Gems, Flowers, Blossoms, or Blooms.

Usually, they went out of their way to act as if Roy were a regular customer since her 'sisters' and 'brothers' were eyes and ears for him and his aunt, Madam Christmas. The pillow talk and gossip passed to the Lady of the House by the residents every morning at closing was then fed to Roy. The entirety of the Rose Garden was a flower bed of information and secrets cultivated by the Gems for their cunning and honorable benefactors. Every person working here was fond of and diligent in supporting them.

They had all suffered harshly under Bradley's regime and were proud to be secretly helping as Roy and the Madam's aides. Sapphire and the other Gems were shielded against ostracizing laws from demeaning governmental officials by the former and rough treatment found on street corners by the latter. On numerous occasions, the blooms of The Rose Garden had been saved the physical assault, maiming, and other horrors of the world's oldest profession by their personal saints.

Madam Christmas ran a clean house with no drugs, coercion, or violence from patrons or management. Residents had a choice in their partners and services provided; their residence included room, board, and a larger proportion of their hourly fee than any other pleasure house in Amestris. The Mustangs had protected them, and the Blossoms had all loyally pledged their allegiance.

"Beau," she addressed Roy in code as she and her acquaintance approached, sure that they were attracting attention from Lieutenant General Weiss' captain three seats down. It was her job to know who was working for whom and conveying that to those who needed to know. "I'm so glad to see you," she said giving Roy a kiss on each cheek.

"It's always a pleasure to see you. Thank you for directing my friend, Sapphire," Roy grinned at her, then signaled to stop the appetizing blond before he could reply with a slight shake of raven locks. Turning to the bartender, he said, "Emerald, he'll have a single neat whiskey."

"Top shelf," Edward said with a meaningful look at her 'brother.' After an amusing moment of watching the two men wage a silent battle, she giggled when the General acquiesced.

"Top shelf," Roy submitted in good natured defeat while Edward grinned from ear to ear, "and put it on my tab."

"Me too," Sapphire teased him.

"Ha! Maybe next time, pixie. Em, give her the house special." Roy called to the barkeep and leaned against the solid tabletop, ordering her a virgin spritzer, either being cheap or because she was working. Her fondness for him grew with his nickname for her, pixie. "Why don't we all find an empty set of seats, hmm?" Roy said when the drinks were delivered, combing the room with his eye for an open trio of chairs, away from prying ears.

"Thought you'd be a little earlier, _Edward_ ," Roy prompted their guest with a smugness that told Sapphire he knew he was wheedling the blond for kicks.

"Oh, can I talk now, _Roy_?" the young man asked, adding a special meaning to the name, which Sapphire found entertaining but recognized a growing subtle charge between the two men. A self-assured smile met the General's lazy smirk.

The sight made Sapphire laugh, catching both their surprised attention. Really, it was hysterical to think that someone was on par with Roy's sass. Her 'brother' shook his head in faux annoyance, but looked amused all the same.

"Well, you'd never guess that being meticulous would take hours," Edward joked. "It only took four hours, but it's done."

"And?" the General prompted, and Edward's eyes flicked to Sapphire, the bar patrons, and then back to Roy.

"You sure here is ok, _Roy_ ," the golden youth brandished the name again smugly, locking glances with the General, but mainly focusing on their ability to speak freely.

"If you prefer a more private room," Sapphire interrupted feeling slightly like an outsider in her own home, "that can be arranged."

"Alright," Roy said amused as he looked over Edward's almost hidden concern before turning to her. "We'll be in the office, Sapphire. Since you made first contact, can you act as our bee?"

"Oh, I don't mind," she said slightly bereaved that she had to let go of the stunning blond, "besides, Edward is a cutie." She winked at her guest, earning a reciprocated smile.

"Then, please let the Madam know, pixie, and keep us informed if any weeds crop up," Roy said as they entered the corridor.

She smiled, nodded, and left them at the Madam's office in the hall she and Edward had traveled with a wave of her half-drunk glass. She was curious about her 'brother' and his agent, their snappy remarks and the way they eyed each other; it looked like Roy had found someone on his level.

As she reentered the main salon, she knew things were about to get interesting if Roy Mustang was meeting with a man, that could be none other than the Fullmetal Alchemist, in seclusion.

-8-

"Seriously, _Roy_. What the hell?" Ed said as he swiveled an open chair in the disheveled office. "Is it safe to talk here? And what's a bee? A weed I can figure out." His eyes took in the mess of papers and sundry disarray surrounding them. The small and sensible office looked like his, all organized clutter spread across practical and functional furniture.

"Yes, _Edward_. I'm sure," Mustang confirmed, but Ed was trying to ignore the fact that his name on the older man's tongue sent wings beating in his chest, just as it had at the bar a moment ago. "Madam Christmas's Rose Garden is clean and the Gems are trustworthy. Why else would I suggest we meet here," Mustang smirked obnoxiously and took a sip of his dark drink. "So, report."

"And the 'bee' thing?"

"Someone who passes information between sources," Mustang said as if it were clear, leaning back in his seat, pulling his alcohol up between his hands to block his face. "Now, report."

"Ok, whatever. Fox is clean, but we have another problem," Ed began, cutting to the quick in favor of gulping down half his drink as the weight of his news and the charade of their rendezvous location finally caught up with him. His evident agitation captured Mustang's attention, and Ed let out a resigned sigh as his CO sat up straight in the missing Madam's cushioned chair. "He's ready to retire, but caught a whiff of something off about the books."

"Are you sure he's clear of this? Just because he talks of retirement doesn't mean he is unaware or uninvolved in the coup that's brewing," Mustang questioned with a stone face, but Ed could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I found an easy to decrypt note in his desk while he was taking a piss." He pulled out his pocket notebook and flipped to the quickly copied text and the decoded version, handing it over to his CO for review.

_2 - > _ _3_

_5_ - > _6_

_2M cens ea_

**_F & FM? _ ** _Xray?_

_Golf_

_Romeo, Golf-R &D_

_Hotel-State, Hotel,_ _**Whiskey** _ _, Bravo_

_Foxtrot, Mike-F, Charlie, Echo, Mike-Trans, Sierra, Alpha_

_February - > March _

_May - > June _

_2,000,000 cens each_

**_Flame and Fullmetal?_ ** _Xing?_

_Grumman_

_Raven, Gardner- Research & Development_

_Hakuro-State, Harris,_ _**Weiss** _ _, Bell_

_Fairchild, Mustang-Flame, Clemins, Edison, McDonnell-Transportation, Saro, Avro_

"He knows something's up, but is trying to deduce who's involved. Lucky for us he's behind on his information, but the effort precludes him from actively or passively participating. That's the good news," Ed said as he rubbed the rim of his half empty glass.

"And the bad news?" Mustang asked with caution.

"He waited until I mentioned the Commerce Department's report having inconsistent accounting before he confided his suspicions about Weiss' numbers. Once I prodded Fox about them, he told me that exactly one month after the first two payments were made, assassination attempts were made on Dragon." Ed explained, watching Mustang's response.

"The first two payments… Does that mean there are more?" Mustang's apprehension was clear in his voice as he leaned further onto the chair's edge.

"Yeah. One more was made three and a half weeks ago," Ed said, taking a gulp of his quality booze. His actions were mimicked by his ebony haired CO.

"Damn. A few days, huh?" Mustang stood and paced the small room. He rolled his wrist, making the amber liquid in his glass swirl. Ed's eyes followed the movement as his mind reeled at the coming onslaught of political machinations. "Well, at least we have some advanced warning this time," he said as he leaned down, opened a drawer, and removed a phone in one fluid, rapid motion. He dialed a number in a flurry after jamming the unit on the desk top.

"Falman, did I wake you? …" he asked in a strained casual tone. "Good because I wanted to settle the **bet** **before the night is out** … Yes, that's right, your **alpha** wolf can't strike out when **tango** ing with a date, especially with reservations at that new restaurant, **Indigo,** as the cherry on top. She said in **two days** was perfect, but I may end up breathing like a **dragon** with the amount of spices they use. Anyways, **let the betting pool know** **and** to expect **dragon** breath… Looking forward to it. Goodnight, Lieutenant." The brunet quickly hung up the hidden phone, replacing it in the drawer, and closing the desk with a low click.

Ed watched the expert at work. Mustang effortlessly clued in Falman, who was in charge of onsite security at the Xingese Embassy, with the key word ' **bet** ' followed by the weaving of a military code into plain language. The General proceeded to fluidly let his subordinate know there was an urgent order to be handled ' **before the night is out**.'

Of course Ed knew **Alpha Tango Indigo** was code for Assassin Target Identified, but he was impressed that Mustang made them seem commonplace. His CO easily gave the estimated time of attack of ' **two days** ' before following the key words with ' **dragon** ' to say that Ling was in danger. And obviously, Falman was to update ' **the betting pool** ,' AKA the whole team, and ' **dragon** ,' Ling again, about the situation.

Ed was in awe at the simplicity at which Mustang could give orders and seem frivolous all at the same time. It was sheer mastery.

"I'll have to let Grumman know once we're done here. Too bad circumstantial evidence isn't enough to court martial Weiss, but I doubt he's the ring leader," he said as he resumed his pacing, "but Hakuro isn't calling the shots, either."

"What do you mean? I thought his play at Ling's get-together put him in the driver's seat." Ed asked the migrating Brigadier General from the edge of his own seat, frustrated that there was nothing solid to pin Hakuro with even after spending hours at the fucking hospital having a curved knife fished out of his automail shoulder and having Winry yell at him while disconnecting and reconnecting his arm. The ornate weapon had been a special order they had tracked to a black market dealer, but with no one willing to identify the maker or purchaser, it was a dead end.

"The more I think about it, I seriously question whether Weiss would take orders from Hakuro," Mustang reasoned. "First, Weiss outranks him in the scheme of things. Second, Hakuro only has a few votes to get an extension of his term, so he may be more desperate."

"Shouldn't that mean he'd be more likely to make a mistake?" Ed countered, but felt less sure now.

"Yes, but you aren't the only one who can see that. Whoever is party to this coup should also realize what a loose cannon Hakuro would be as the movement's spear head. In any case, Hakuro doesn't seem to have the resources to force or persuade Weiss to do anything."

"Ok, so if it's not Hakuro leading the charge, I doubt numb-nuts would take orders from just anyone," Ed combed his bangs back in exasperation.

The only thing they seemed to be saying was that Hakuro and Weiss were involved, which they already knew, but that someone else was calling the shots. Oh, and that Fox was in the clear. Thank goodness; Ed seriously doubted the team would be able to handle another surveillance detail without spreading themselves too thin. Plus, Ed liked the old General; Daniel was a good guy.

"That's true…" Mustang choked, stalling his gait. He seemed to be holding back a laugh at the younger man's colorful word choice. Ed found it rewarding to see a glimmer of mirth and warmth in the deep ink pool of Mustang's good eye. It was surprisingly more thrilling fighting alongside the bastard than against him.

A knock at the door proceeded Ed's host as she entered quickly with an annoyed cast to her elfin features.

"You're never going to guess which weeds sprouted, deciding cards and drinks were too tame for their evening," Sapphire said to them with disgust lining her words.

"Hakuro?" Mustang and Ed said in sync with opposite reactions. The elder alchemist smirked while Ed frowned.

"Ok, spooky. Do you do that often?" she asked them, then continued after an empty beat. "Yes, Hakuro, Weiss, Raven, The Chairman, and Collins," she informed them.

"Fuck," Ed cursed. Three out of five were on his shit list. "Too bad associating with known conspirators isn't grounds for anything," he murmured to himself. "Who's Collins? Another Assemblyman?"

Sapphire nodded to answer his questions, but before she could comment further, Mustang spoke.

"Hmm," he said, then smirked deviously. "Are they planning on taking Private Tours of the Garden?"

"It sounded like it; they already seem pretty soused, though," she grumbled, obviously disliking having to deal with drunks.

"Then Edward and I will go Walk the Garden," Mustang said with a superior grin.

"We're going to do what now?" Ed exclaimed, almost losing his cool.

"You'll see," Mustang placated, seemingly distracted by his happy thoughts. "Pixie, let the Madam know. By the way, where is she?"

"She's checking the Irrigation," Sapphire said in code. "I'll let her know you want to see her when you get back." The short brunette woman exited the cramped space without turning back.

Ed's irritation was rising. How many more fucking garden euphemisms were there in this place anyways? Ed's tolerance at being left out of the loop was peaking, and he didn't know how much more he could take.

"Mustang, look, I'm not sure what 'Walking the Garden' means, but you and I shouldn't…" Ed's anxious objection was interrupted. He didn't think his CO had told the petite woman the two of them were going to do something sexual, but they were in a brothel and they were already walking a murky line most days.

"First names only, _Edward_ , and don't worry. It's not what you think…" Mustang hedged, but the direction both their minds apparently took made Ed blush lightly and Mustang turn away. "Trust me until we get there," he said facing the office door but turned his head over his right shoulder for Ed's acceptance, "then if you still need me to explain I will."

Ed nodded then followed Mustang out and to the left of the paper draped office to the end of the hall, coming to the door on the other side of the entryway to the small lounge they had met in earlier. They entered a busy kitchen, and were met with a few welcoming glances. After Mustang gave a soft nod of greeting to the cooks they were left alone.

His CO led Ed to the far wall, and they went through another doorway to a different hallway. Mustang turned to look over his shoulder, but instead of eyeing Ed, he checked that they were alone in the aisle before they came to the end of the corridor. Only then did he open the door in the corner. Inside, Ed could see a basic broom closet filled with cleaning supplies.

As Ed was about to say a snide remark about being lost, Mustang stepped inside and pulled a stupefied Ed after him, closing the door behind them. In the dark, Ed nervously tried to take a step back, instantly aware of the warm body pressed to his chest. He bumped into the solid wood behind him in his haste, unable to breathe or move without touching _Roy_ ; he froze.

Rustling fabric brushed the front of his arms and thighs; Mustang was close, and getting closer. The older man leaned into his limited personal space, and Ed's nose was filled with the scent of sun dried cotton, paper and ink, and a vague intangible scent that danced enticingly up Ed's brainstem, compromising his ability to think or breath.

His hind brain, full of baser instincts took over, involuntarily speeding his heart, sending his blood pumping through his veins at a dangerous speed. His lungs jolted into action, stuttering in their demand for breath. Almost hyperventilating, the heated scent of the man he couldn't have inches away, _Roy_ leaned in, brushing Ed's shoulder, encroaching further into forbidden territory.

For a second in the tight dark space, he was lost to the anticipation of touch and warmth, but instead of the physical embrace he was expecting, Ed heard a low metallic grinding noise over his shoulder. Then he felt a rush of cooler air and the hush of a door opening in front of him.

Trying to make sense of the bewildering change in circumstances, Ed stalled. Then he saw the outline of a shadow in the dark, _Roy_ turning in the constricted space and away from him. Next, he was nearly blinded by the sudden light in front of him winking into existence. His blaring eyes blinked as his brain processed the fact that instead of a solid wall covered in brooms and mops, there was a long passageway extending inward.

Ed followed _Roy_ with hesitant steps. Once past the retracted false panel, _Roy_ replaced it with a silent click. Stepping away again, _Roy_ proceeded along the unfinished innards of the hall. Ed's jaw snapped shut, and his lips flattened into a tight line.

"You could have warned me, you bastard," he complained, not sure if he was more upset about thinking Mustang was playing with him or with himself for expecting something to happen in the dark.

"And what fun would that have been?" _Roy_ chuckled as they moved along the hidden walkway.

"So, what's this? A secret passage?" Ed asked dumbly. Obviously, it was a secret passage.

"Yes," _Roy_ said as they turned the corner, his broad shoulders and raven hair bounding along in front of Ed. "One with a great view of The Garden," he said as they came to the first of many windows.

Ed turned his head and nearly ran into the man leading him. Before them was a one-way mirror to an occupied room. Two women were astride a third on a bed while a man sat in a red velvet winged back chair giving them explicit directions in his no-touch fantasy. Ed's jaw dropped, first at the scene on the other side of the glass and then at the man next to him. What the hell was this place?!

Oh, yeah. A pleasure house. Coming back to his senses, Ed looked past _Roy_ and noticed the other elaborately framed windows. Each had a camera affixed to the wall above the glass, so that pictures of debauchery could be snapped. There was also a chair located at each station for easy viewing.

"Not this one," _Roy_ said before moving on, unaffected.

"What the…" Ed started to say as he unconsciously followed his very attractive and tantalizing CO along a Walk in the Garden.

Another faux window showed a man on his knees panting facing the glass; he wore nothing but a black leather collar attached to a leash. His Gem stood behind him, ridding crop in one hand. Ed moved on before she could use the other slicked and glistening tool in her other hand.

The third room was empty, but the fourth housed a more mundane picture. It looked like the most ordinary sex Ed expected to see here, especially after the first two rooms, until he, for some reason, looked closer. He noticed the partner he thought was a woman in flowing lingerie slide off her panties revealing one of the largest penises he had ever seen.

Quickening his pace, Ed caught up to _Roy_ two windows down. The General was watching him with laughter in his gaze and Ed blushed, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. Now was not the time to be thinking about sex, any kind of sex.

His pulse, barely recovered from their passage through the false closet, sped again at the views he had seen. He had never imagined what he'd seen through the fake mirrors, and as embarrassed as he was for peeping, he was also getting turned on. His internal compass was getting turned around and everything felt jumbled up inside.

As they progressed down the hall, he noticed a military coat or two on hangers, over sofa arms, or on the back of the doors, and wondered how often military personnel were here. It was located close to HQ and the barracks, after all.

"Got your fill, Edward?" _Roy_ chuckled low.

"Shut up, you shit," he growled, hiding his blush in his bangs.

"Oh, not 'bastard?'" A toying voice teased.

"No, you deserve far worse," Ed accused.

"And who's going to give it to me? You?"

Their eyes met, and something in the air changed. Ed wasn't sure what it was. Maybe their banter had crossed a line somewhere. Or maybe they were both hyper aware that there was sex to be had here, and that neither of them could be with the person they wanted, even if they were alone and not two feet away from each other.

"So, what the hell is this? Is this how you get your information?" Ed asked, looking away.

"Not usually, but if there is a troublesome opponent, it is always good to know their weaknesses." _Roy_ answered with more of a straight face, honesty winning out over provoking Ed further in this charged space. "Sometimes, this is the only option."

"Uh, huh. Sure, _Roy_. Keep telling yourself that," Ed tried to tease their way out of the awkwardness they had stumbled into.

"Well, shall we?" _Roy_ asked while Ed was still looking away.

"Shall we what? I think I've got a lifetime's full, thanks," Ed declined.

"We still need to find Hakuro's room. He's usually upstairs…" _Roy_ murmured, thinking it over.

"Usually? Does that mean you watch often?" He made a face. "Ew. _Roy_ , I knew you were perverted but this takes the cake," he joked.

"I hardly think that I qualify as perverted simply because I know that the Major General is a regular customer and my aunt keeps me informed. And lower your voice. The glass is thick but not exactly sound proof, _Edward_."

"Wait, your aunt? Madam Christmas is your…?" Ed asked in bewilderment. "Huh. That explains a lot, actually," he mumbled under his breath thinking back over his CO's flirting skills and the rumors about his sexual prowess.

"That's right. Only Hawkeye knows, so for the safety of everyone who works here, keep it to yourself," his CO replied, not ordering, but asking in earnest.

"Sure, sure." Ed promised with a wave of his hand. "No wonder you know your way around here like the back of your hand."

At that, they thankfully made it to the end of the hidden hallway. Two stairways met them, one leading down and the other up. Ed looked expectantly at _Roy_.

"This way," _Roy_ indicated the path up, "the other leads underground to HQ."

"Seriously?" Ed asked surprised.

"Yes, since Grumman and the Madam have been friends for years and he wanted to have a secret way out if things became dangerous, they figured this place was safest."

"Wow, who knew he was such a dirty old man, having an escape route leading to a brothel," Ed chuckled as he climbed the quiet wooden staircase behind _Roy_. "So they go that far back?"

"Yes. In fact, it was through the Madam's friendship with Grumman that I was able to apprentice with his son-in-law, Master Berthold Hawkeye."

"Oh, yeah. You mentioned that before." Ed hedged as they took the stairs to the second floor, remembering an uncomfortable dream discussion somewhere between there and here. "So, Hawkeye's father was your alchemy teacher. That makes Grumman… her grandfather and your…"

"He was my CO when I was stationed at East City Command," _Roy_ explained, "and he has been an excellent mentor both in strategy and military matters."

"Huh. I guess everyone has one." Ed replied, not sure what else to say. _Roy_ was being overly candid, and it was throwing off Ed's rhythm.

They reached the landing and began to search the hall for their target. It was an odd situation. The same chairs and cameras lined the walkway behind large one way mirrors as Ed and _Roy_ blatantly observed patrons' secret desires. All the while the two of them avoided their own gratifying yearnings. What they were doing struck Ed as obtrusive, unfair, and wrong.

It wasn't until the third window pane that they found what they were looking for. A bare and slender, but fit, blond man was led on a leash across the floor by a mostly-naked Hakuro. The older man arranged his partner with his stomach resting on a soft white satin ottoman embroidered with a purple floral pattern.

From a cabinet, identical to those in each of the rooms, the excited Major General brought out a few black leather objects. First, a thick bar with wrist restraints on the ends was held up, and the Bloom compliantly slipped his hands through. Next came an ankle stretcher bar and a ridding crop Ed had seen earlier in another room. Hakuro then latched the wrist restraints to the ankle bar behind the already folded blond on the cushioned footrest.

"Shit," Ed breathed, not sure he wanted to see more.

"Looks like Opal will be keeping him busy," _Roy_ muttered to himself with an obvious frown.

Ed realized each of the rooms must have their own supply of toys in the matching cupboard. His groin twitched and his face reddened at the thought. They watched as Hakuro spanked and rode Opal, the Gem he had chosen, into the furniture, hoping to somehow glean a few informative tidbits for their disturbing trouble. They also observed Hakuro's compatriots. They were pretty tame in comparison to the Major General, and not all of them were partaking in The Garden's blooms. Through a few well-placed two way mirrors in the hall, they looked out along the top of the entry area just below the chandelier. Ed and _Roy_ could see that The Chairman and Weiss were still downstairs having drinks.

Before any of their quarry were finished, Ed and _Roy_ snuck back the way they had come to the Madam's now occupied office. Sitting in the chair _Roy_ had taken earlier sat a rotund and crass looking woman in her 50's. Her blockish face featured a square jaw, full lips, a large nose and half lidded round green eyes. Held in a ponytail, her brown hair fell over her left shoulder between her cream skin and the furry tan collar of her black jacket. Across her chest, above her V-neck burgundy dress, was a bold necklace of flat thick gold and a single string of large pearls. As Ed and _Roy_ entered the room, she gave her nephew a nod.

"Have a seat, Roy-Boy," she said indicating the chair across from her desk.

"Roy-Boy?" Ed repeated, diverted as he looked over his CO, unable to believe that the incorrigible Brigadier General Roy Mustang would let anyone call him that.

"You too, pretty boy," Madam Christmas ordered Ed to sit next to _Roy_ as her thick golden ringed fingers pulled out a cigarette from its case.

"Pretty boy?" Ed questioned in surprised amusement as he took his seat. He knew some found him attractive, but pretty? Come on. That was just plain funny.

"Madam, this is Edward Elric, The Fullmetal Alchemist. Edward, this is my aunt, Chris Mustang, otherwise known as Madam Christmas."

"Call me Madam," she said, reaching out for his hand.

"I'm Ed. Nice place you got here," Ed said as he shook with the older woman. Her grip was solid against his automail, but her smile evaluated him on a deeper level. Whatever she saw there, she released him with an approving nod.

"So how was The Garden?" she asked him in a gravelly voice with a knowing look in those green eyes. "Interesting batch of weeds tonight, huh?"

"Seems like. What can you tell us about them that we don't already know?" _Roy_ asked his aunt.

"Well," she said, lighting her cigarette then taking a drag, "Sapphire and Amethyst are keeping The Chairman and Lieutenant General Weiss busy while Opal, Pearl, and Ruby are upstairs with the rest. Seems they felt the need to let out some steam before something blows wide open on your head, Roy-Boy."

Ed and _Roy_ gave each other a knowing glance before giving her their attention again as she took another drag.

"Weiss usually has Gypsum and Jade for the night, but he seems too agitated to get it up for the poor girls. His friend in the parlor never comes in except when the others drag him here; too straight edged or too depraved to test the waters, I suspect, but he pays their bill when he's here.

"Lieutenant General Raven has Topaz wash his feet before his fun with her. Collins is pretty vanilla; he only wants a pretty man to ride him for an hour before he goes home to his wife."

"What about Hakuro?" Ed asked. It seemed she had left him for the end or off the list on purpose, and it made Ed uneasy.

"Well, Ed, Hakuro has a type. Opal is not the only blond man working for me, but Hakuro has requested them all over his years when visiting The Garden. Out of all of the blossoms he has requested, he subjugates them all in some form or another," her gruff voice made the news more unwelcome.

Ed frowned and leaned back while he processed this new information with what he had already seen upstairs, regretting that he could never un-see it, cringing internally when he considered that man's hands on him in an abandoned corridor in Central Command.

"Ok, but you cater to people's predilections, right?" Ed reasoned. "Is it that far outside of the norm?"

"Well, I've been in business for years, 28 of which I've run this house. Hakuro has been a loyal customer for nearly that long. His tastes have changed considerably in that time."

"Well most people's tastes develop…" _Roy_ began with a curious frown on his brow.

"Most people don't swing quiet so far, so fast and stay there," she said, eyeing Ed in an uncomfortable way, like she saw the pieces and they were about to fall into place.

"So, what are you saying? Did something happen to him?" Ed asked, confused.

"I have my suspicions," her gaze swept over him as she continued. "Up until about ten years ago, he used to ask for pretty brunette girls that were similar to his petite wife, but then all of a sudden he started to want blond men, as young as I could find and still stay legal. And he wanted to dominate them."

Ed felt a sinking feeling and swallowed as he thought back to a train ride nearly ten years ago. One for which a then-Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang yelled at him to take. One on which he had saved the Major General's life. One that had won him the support he needed to take the State Alchemist Exam. One after which the Major General antagonized him no matter how well or poorly he did his job.

Now he knew why. And it gave him the creeps. Who wants to be fantasized about by a man three times his age and beginning when he was still a pre-teen?

Ed felt dirty somehow, in need of a long shower. And a drink. A stiff one. Right now.

"And… I'm done," Ed breathed. "Madam, it was a pleasure to meet you. _Roy_ , I'm going to the bar for a double, and I'm putting it on your tab. You owe me."

"Why do I owe you another drink? I already paid up," _Roy_ protested.

"You were the one who put me on that train," Ed said then shivered out his disgust at their new information.

"True…" _Roy_ conceited begrudgingly.

"So by extension, this is your fault, Bastard," Ed accused logically.

"Hardly," _Roy_ drawled a token protest.

"Uh, huh. Sure, _Roy_. Keep telling yourself that." Ed said flippantly as he waved goodbye over his shoulder, leaving a smiling Madam and frowning _Roy_.

-8-

"Well, Roy-Boy," Chris called to her nephew as the delightful blond left her office for the secluded back bar of The Pond.

"Yes, Madam?" her son asked, waiting for her to give a judgement, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"I like him. He'll be good for you," she said and gave her son an honest smile, gleeful as his jaw dropped open slightly before he could compose his well-practiced mask. "He'll call you on your bull and push you to be better. You're gonna need that in the Big Seat."

"Why would you assume we'll end up together? He's my subordinate," Roy-Boy explained lamely; she could see through the mask she had helped him develop. His face said he knew the excuse held no water, but he stuck to his argument anyway. "People's lives are counting on me making it to Führer, and I can't do that if I'm Court Martialed for sleeping with my Colonel."

"Deny it all you want, honey, but that was the first time you've introduced me as _your aunt_ in this place," she said, snuffing out her fire stick and retrieving another. "He's special to you, much more than a subordinate, and he won't be that for much longer, if my information is any good." She poked him for a light with two ringed fingers, a new cigarette locked between them. He reflexively lit it with a snap as she gave her parting order. "Just don't fuck it up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Are Roy and Edward going to get over their sh*t or is the coming assassination going to stall their forward motion? Gah! So excited!
> 
> PS (if anyone cares)
> 
> I've used the US military alphabet, but for this story, I have changed 'I' from 'India' to 'Indigo' since there is no such place as 'India' in FMA universe. I'm such a sucker for details.


	46. Chapter 46

***I didn't see that coming***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

"I see," Führer Gordon Grumman nodded. "Do you have any other information about the assassination attempt? Do we know more specifics about the time or place the attack is likely to occur?"

"No, sir. As I reported two days ago, we have only been able to discover that today is the most likely date; however, we have done everything within our power to guard Prince Ling. He has also heightened his own security, but has refused to change his schedule for the day, saying that he will not allow our countries' mutual benefit to be hindered," his loyal subordinate, Mustang, explained. "I've also increased your own security detail until the threat has passed. Luckily, the prince seems to only be attending the one meeting here while the rest will be held at the Embassy, so both locations, as well as the route between, are being secured."

"Yes, the young prince and Major General Hakuro are meeting to discuss possible trade routes and the joint funding of the railroad project through the Eastern Desert. The Major General has stated, magnanimously, that he will ensure the prince's safety during his time at Central Command." Gordon said flatly, sharing a look with his unofficial apprentice.

Neither he, nor Mustang, believed William's sentiment, but there was nothing they could do about it now. They each had to concentrate on the current threat of war, the domino that would begin the chain reaction of war if it fell. However, that did not mean they couldn't celebrate their small win as they came.

Gordon considered his young protégé. The talented strategist was obviously not pleased to be passing along such incomplete information, but Gordon was aware of Mustang's determination. He remembered when he first met the child at his friend Chris's establishment years ago; even then, the boy had intelligent eyes and the cunning to know what was needed in any given situation. It was why he had always looked out for and guided the man now standing before him. All those years had bred familiarity, along with a heavy dose of care. It was a shame that the Council had been trying to slow down his forthcoming promotion, an effort spearheaded by William Hakuro. Which reminded him…

"On another note, the rest of the Council and I have just approved your well-deserved promotion, Major General," he said with a straight face, then smiled a proud grin at the man he was grooming to take his place, the man who was more his son than his own son-in-law had ever been. Gordon produced a box from his desk and handed it over. "Congratulations, m'boy."

"Sir?" Mustang asked, taking the offered object before opening it to see his new ranking's star. "I was unaware I had the votes for such a quick move. I've only been reinstated as a Brigadier General for less than three years," he said humbly, but Gordon knew he was trying to forestall his good cheer with caution. It was a trait he admired in his replacement-in-training. He swelled with approval at Mustang's response; it made Gordon sure that Chris's boy would be the leader Amestris needed, and a great one at that.

"Well, after the work you did restoring Central, the handling of our Xingese guests and Fullmetal's return, as well as that Collective business, it was hard to deny that you were due," he explained to his new Major General what was obvious to anyone watching. Gordon walked around his desk and sat on its edge, taking the opened box from Mustang's hand. "Aside from you winning Clemins and Weiss after saving their calvary skirts after their fumble with 'The Collective,' it seems Fullmetal was able to swing quite a few votes your way: Fox, Avro, and Gardner."

"Lieutenant General Gardner, sir?" Mustang asked, trying to cover his confusion with a subtle request for more information. Thankful that he wouldn't need to replace Mustang's bars and stripes as well, Gordon pulled his successor's new rank markers from the box and began to put a single star in the center of each shoulder marking a General. "I was under the impression that R&D was unhappy with my prompting Fairchild's investigation into the 'misplacement' of Red Stones," Mustang smirked while Gordon continued his work, adjusting the new stars

"True, m'boy, but it seems Fullmetal was able to arrange an exchange: information for his vote, his every vote in your favor," Gordon chuckled at Mustang's involuntary dilating eye, the only sign of surprise as he slipped the now empty box back into his apprentice's hand. "Apparently, Gardner wanted to know about the mechanics of flight, and our young Edward was able to oblige."

A buzz sounded from behind Gordon, indicating his afternoon treat was here.

"I see," Mustang said from behind his mask, seeming to fall back on his cultivated guise in order to process the news, another attribute that would serve the future Führer.

Gordon distractedly rose and circled his desk, depressing the security release for his door and letting in his new, coquettish and very enticing, intern to pour his tea. Her curvaceous figure backed in, rear first, to his enamored enjoyment. Her military skirt's back slit revealing more than was necessarily appropriate for the workplace, but he'd allow it; her flirtations were not rebuffed, nor should they be by a widower who was the leader of the most powerful nation in the world.

"Tea and sweets, sirs," she indicated the cups and desserts on her tray as she turned her hazel eyes on Gordon. She walked her rolling burden to the desk, crossing the empty space of the office.

"Tea and two sugars, Alice. Are there any special treats today?" The entranced Führer asked, following her voluptuous figure as she placed the tea cup on his desk, leaning forward so that her ample breasts were in clear view as she poured the hot beverage. He smiled, and raised his eyes to her alluring heart-shaped face when he heard her laugh.

"You have no idea," she said full of innuendo as she righted herself and stood off to the side of his desk.

"Mustang, care for some tea?" he asked distractedly, without taking his eyes off her.

"Not today," his soon to be successor smirked at the common occurrence, pulling Gordon back to himself and their conversation. It was almost a surety that Gordon would flirt with his interns, but being scrupulous in his leadership left no room for anyone to complain.

"The last holdout finally conceded," Gordon said, refocusing on Mustang as Alice went back to her tray for the promised treats. He was sure William's appetite for power was sated for now, having tasted the newest blond incentive The Garden had to offer him the night before last. "The Council met this morning without you to discuss your promotion, but don't be put out, m'boy," he said, noting the tightening of the lines around Mustang's eye and jaw, the only indications of the younger man's anger. "No other business was discussed. We'll have to do the same for each of the Generals as the deadline approaches, so keep on guard for heavy campaigning. You were the first vote of the bunch; for some reason, Hakuro wanted to keep you from 'fanning your own flames,' as it were, not that it mattered in the end."

"I see," Mustang nodded his understanding that he had barely come out ahead, but that his pieces were positioned well enough to protect against any unforeseen maneuvers. He slid his new box into his pant pocket, as if to protect his new rank from further assault; Gordon smiled at the gesture as Alice returned with a small plate of the dessert. Again she moved off to the side of his desk to wait for her turn with him.

"That is all, for now. Report after the prince is out of the woods, Major General," Gordon said with a small smile of pride in his protégé. "I expect the prince to be able to sit through another long trade talk tomorrow," he said more seriously, reiterating the threat they faced if the young noble died. How long could they hold off the assassins and their contract owner(s)? He hoped it was long enough to stop the war it would cost them if they failed.

"Understood, sir. Please keep your own guard in play until then, and thank you, sir, for your support," Mustang bowed then saluted, leaving after sharing a genuine smile with Gordon. The security door clicking closed behind Mustang, Gordon's unnecessarily large security team standing sentry outside his door.

He closed his eyes for a moment in his excessively large office, made for intimidation more than functionality, and leaned back in his chair smiling. His chess board was populating with new threats, but he was confident in the future he was planning for. Another two years and he could promote Mustang again, and within five years the man he saw as a son would be a full General, ready to take on the mantle of successor within seven years.

It was frustrating, having to wait until the lower Brass were either on board with the idea or were no longer in office. Either way, the public would support their 'Hero of Central' in his bid for leadership. Gordon chuckled to himself, wishing whimsically that he could hand over the reins today. He was not old, but he was getting older, and he wanted to spend his remaining active time engaged in amorous congress, not politicking.

A soft pair of hands slid onto his shoulders and began to message him. He leaned into the touch, surprised and thankful for the strength of those fingers. Reaching up, he detached Alice's small digits, bringing her around to face him.

"So, you mentioned treats?" he asked playfully.

"Yes, something hard and delicious," Alice smiled. She leaned over his desk, her slender fingers wrapping around a biscotti. After dipping it suggestively into his tea a few times, she lifted it to her mouth. The shapely girl propped herself up on his armrest, filling his personal space. She tasted the sweetened bread, sucking the juices from its end, laving it languidly with her tongue before abruptly biting the end off as she straddled him in her shortened skirt. His chair creaked and clicked at her added warm weight, but he was not going to complain by her more forward attentions.

"Ooh," he shivered at the intoxicating act. "Careful there. You never know what will happen when you bite unexpectedly," he warned with only insinuation and a burning growing in the pit of his stomach. Her show was bringing him to half mast, but the coy glean in her eyes said she knew what she was doing to him.

"It's nothing I can't handle, sir," she said with sultry lips. Her breasts heaved slowly is his face, and he could feel the fire in his gut run straight to his manhood. Her words burning their way through his fantasies as his blood rushed in his veins.

"You really know how to light a man's fire," Gordon said, feeling his cock standing at attention below her heat. His head was reeling, as he watched her taste the sopping phallus in her hand again, imagining her mouth occupied with something much more filling. She leaned further over him, and reached down along his sides to the sound of more popping and clicking from below him. He reached his hands up her back, tracing her curves as he settling the gal on his hips more squarely. She leaned back, her smile hiding a secret.

"Actually, I'm better at snuffing it out," she said with teasing in her eyes. He was in the middle of raising his hands again when he paused at her odd phrasing. Gordon suddenly realized that something cold and hard was running along his hip and up his stomach. He glanced down in time to see her gripping his sidearm into his chest as the hammer slammed. The quick gunshots were muffled at the muzzle, but in the quiet room, they were resounding.

He gripped his chest, trying to keep his blood in his body, as he coughed red dew onto her beautiful cheeks. Pain radiated through his ribs, heart and back. Heat escaped his body as his chair filled with blood on its way to the floor. Gordon felt cold seeping up his limbs, and he had no strength as each millisecond was spent working to inhale raspy breaths, one after another.

In the detached and intervening moments before his death, he heard her slide off his lap. Her weight disappeared as his chair rocked with its loss. His glazing eyes watched as she placed his gun on his desk, a mere arm's length away.

She slipped out of her military uniform, revealing her skin tight body suit, short enough to see her rounded cheeks. She pulled a rope from the bust of her discarded Amestrian Blues and opened his window behind him.

Watching her, he defiantly stretched out his shaking hand, knowing it would cost him his life to let go his fatal wounds. His feeble fingers caressed the butt of the weapon, her promised death etched darkly in his stare; his grasping fingertips only managed to shift the gun further out of his reach. She giggled at the attempt before he gave up, instead desperately clutching his chest with weak hands, trying to keep himself alive.

His men were pounded on the door now, Sheska screaming his name, unable to enter without his enabled access while Alice secured her rope to the window frame. She offered him a pitying glance before whipping her eyes to the door as its lock and hinges exploded with Voss' bullet holes and his soldiers' shouts.

"Don't worry, sir. I always get my man," she cooed and blew him a kiss before flinging herself out the window and down her rope to descent from his sixth floor window.

'Didn't see that one coming…' he thought as the world grew dim around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so... sorry for the late update. With YOI destroying my life and school starting up again, I got a little distracted. I kept ramming my head against this chapter in certain parts until I got a PM from pokeperson01 on FF. Then everything just flowed, and I couldn't stop it! So, collectively: All hail pokeperson01! All hail pokeperson01! Hahahaha!
> 
> Let me know what you think! Your comments literally keep me going!


	47. Chapter 47

***Another One I Couldn't Save***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

Chaos reigned. Two sets of sharp gun fire had drawn Roy running back the way he'd come, but he had not expected this! Resounding alarms shrieked throughout the halls as he reached for his arrayed gloves. Men and women in Blues churned in the uncertain seas of Central Command, and Roy had to wade through humanity, tightening his cloth weapons at their cuff. Shouts were trying to reach their targets over the den of noise, but he could pay them no mind. Roy's speeding heartbeat and the rush of his blood filled his ears in his efforts to get to his leader, his father, and all he could do was push his panic down with sure strides.

The stiff wall of the Führer's personal guards was surrounded by gawkers, trying to see inside. When they saw him coming, though, they all parted at his breathless approach. Once he arrived at his silent mentor's office, he couldn't believe what he was seeing, but he'd been around enough death to know the truth of the situation instantly. No sound permeated this space, as if walking in was to pass beyond a quiet veil.

Shattered and laying sprawled abandoned on the floor, the door to the inner office had been shot open, splinters littering the carpet. Sheska was crying soundlessly on the floor by the desk chair in a puddle of red; she was desperately pressing down, trying to stop the slow drip of the liquid she was sitting in. Glassy eyes replaced the playful and familiar gleam that always teased Roy; they were unfocused, looking towards the window. Following the line of sight, Roy saw that Major Voss was almost catatonic as he leaned back in through the open glass, a lost look plaguing him.

Roy rushed Grumman's personal protector, slamming him against the wall. Voss, usually a stoic and proud man, didn't struggle; in fact, he lacked his superior air, like the light behind his ink black eyes was gone. He was obviously in shock. Roy needed information, and the only way to get it was to get some life back into this room.

"Voss!" Roy shouted in the man's voided face, shaking the soldier. "What happened?! Where is the assailant?" When he got no response, he slapped the Major, "Voss! Snap out of it!" His own fear clawing at his throat. Blank black eyes found his face. Recognition shone for a moment, and Roy jumped at the chance. "Who was it?! Where did they go?"

He'd only left a few moments ago. How could this have happened? How could _Roy_ have let this happen? A few moments… that's all it taken for his father to… They had just been celebrating Roy's promotion, Grumman pinning his stars in place before the old man had his afternoon tea…

"Where's Alice?" Roy questioned the guard. "She must have seen something! Where is she?" he demanded. He needed to know more if he was going to catch them, whoever 'they' were.

"Sir, she… the…" Instead of Voss, Roy heard Sheska off to his side. He looked down from Voss's waking face to glimpse her uncharacteristic sobbing. He backed off the Major and stepped to the Führer's secretary. Softening his approach, he kneeled next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shivering shoulder.

"Sheska, what happened?" he asked in a rushed whisper.

"She… she was… bringing… bringing him his… tea time… snacks…" Sheska told him through her bawling.

"And then…" he prodded, gripping her shoulder tighter to get her to focus and keep her from the edges of her growing hysteria.

"She shot him!" She croaked around her tears.

It was as if naming the act made it all real. The Führer was dead, his dead body materializing in his chair. Metallic copper filled Roy's mouth and nose, nearly suffocating him. The clambering from the onlookers in the hall was deafening. The alarm was ringing, and the entire base would be on alert.

The desecration of the room, of Grumman's office, the man who had taken him under his wing, burned his blood. Jagged pain ripped through his heart, like only once before, when Maes had died. He'd feared he had lost his heart then, but its tearing now proved it was still there to shred. Roy felt all eyes watching him, looking for guidance, but all he could do was press down the growing sear of unshed tears.

His own building cries were stalled by the cacophony of noise at the door, as more people tried to push their way in to see what had happened. Without thought, he rose his hand and snapped, gaining everyone's startled attention.

"Get out! Get the hell out of here! Unless you were assigned duty in this office, get the hell out!" He growled, not igniting the oxygen chain with his array, but letting the ignition cloth spark. In the strained silence, he collected his calm, and spoke again, this time with more control. "Your Führer deserves your respect and nothing less." The full silence was swiftly met with abashed scurrying feet beyond the wall of failed protectors.

Sheska stiffened and found her resolve; Voss shook himself out of his daze, straightening. Roy stood, feeling his personal feelings sink below his professional façade. His heart crumpled as he realized the truth, saw the proof of it full-force. His mentor, his friend, his father was dead. The Führer was dead. Fuck! The Führer of Amestris was dead!

His head spun as he tried to gain his bearings. They needed to secure the location, hell – all of Central, find his assassin, 'Alice,' and protect Dragon. Shit. Dragon. Where pandemonium reigned, it would be easy to kill a foreign diplomat in the resulting turmoil. He needed to keep calm. He needed to maintain order. He needed to call a meeting of the Council. Amestris needed a Führer.

Who was next in line for the job? Who were they going to trust with the future of the country?

Roy's mind rolled through the tumultuous storm that was facing them. He thought through the line of succession, contingency plans, and orders to give. In the span of a few seconds, he had rearranged his world to fit the reality before him, and it was not going to be good.

"Major Voss," he called and the officer perked up, "have your men secure the area." Roy picked up the office phone and dialed his own extension. "Your job now is to secure the chain of succession. Bring two men with you, and come with me."

"Internal Security," his Captain answered between the first and second ring. He could hear the strain in her voice, most likely from the siren's sound, and he was loath to have to tell her that her only remaining family was dead. Now was not the time to comfort his friend. Right now, he needed his Captain, and he hoped she was up to the task before them.

"Foxtrot Alpha Lima," he told Hawkeye without preamble, ordering 'Führer Assassinated Lockdown' protocols to go into effect. "Send Intelligence to the Führer's office and have Fullmetal get to Hakuro's, Sierra Delta Golf," he commanded, passing on the order for Fullmetal to follow 'Secure Dragon in the Garden' security measures. "I'm on my way to the State Department. I'm calling a Council meeting. Contact the other Generals; I'll meet them in the Council Chamber."

"Sheska," he turned to the auburn-haired bookworm. "draw up Chain of Succession papers and come to the Council Chamber when you're done. Also, I need you to tell Fairchild's staff everything you know about 'Alice,' even the trivial details, when they get here. Get her personnel file for them, too." Not that he thought the information would be truthful, now that they knew she was an assassin.

Damn. An assassin. The assassin they had thought was targeting Ling had killed Führer Grumman. How could he have been so blind, thinking that the target would not change with the number of foiled attempts the nebulous 'they' had. How could Roy not have seen? Had he been distracted? Fooled? Complacent?

He glanced at his fallen mentor, once more before adding in a more somber tone, "Only let the assigned Investigations team in; no one else should see him like this."

He clasped her on the shoulder, letting go quickly, and sure-footedly headed out the door not waiting for her reply. He heard Voss give crisp orders to the men outside the door before following in his wake with two more men. They had a successor to secure.

* * *

***Run***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

Ed turned to Hawkeye as she slammed down the phone. The alarm bells were ringing in his ears, the whole compound wound tighter as a spring.

"Grandfather," she whispered clenched her fist over her heart. Her honey brown eyes filling with a sharp pain as her forehead scrunched with her denial.

"Hawkeye…" Ed asked, afraid he knew. The raw emotion on her face was unsettling. It was there for only a hair's breadth, but hearing her name seemed to break her out of it. Her head popped up, face hard as stone.

"Foxtrot Alpha Lima," she ordered to the room. "Send Intel to the Führer's office. Edward, Sierra Delta Golf."

Foxtrot Alpha Lima?! Grumman was…

The room exploded with motion. Every stressed soldier pulled their phone and dialed memorized extensions, all with the same message: lockdown procedures for the command, the compound, and the city. Further details would follow. Intelligence was to send a team to the scene. All Generals were to meet in the Council room with armed escorts.

"Colonel, Sierra Delta Golf!" She shouted, pulling her gun and checking the chamber while the others flew into action, not sparing him any more of her attention.

Ed's head reeled, but his feet propelled him out the door as their activities buzzed behind him. He sprinted to the main hall and up the central staircase, weaving between bodies he didn't have time to shout out of his way. The alarm was still scraping his inner ears. Soldiers moved in double time as lockdown procedures went into effect, but Ed couldn't care about that. He had orders that needed to be carried out NOW!

He climbed to the correct floor, not noticing how many stairs there had been. His body ran, forgetting decorum as he went. A left then a right then another right. He flung open Hakuro's outer door, noting Gladys on the phone with a pale face. Obviously, someone had called to tell the office the news. A stern older Xingese man Ed had seen at the gala and in Germany dropped into an alert and defensive pose in front of the door.

"We don't have time for that. We need to get Ling out of here," Ed shouted as he ran up to the double doors to Hakuro's inner office. The older man's eyes widened, but let Ed pass. He followed Ed through the excessively large entryway only to be met with wide eyes and stiff postures.

"Sir," Ed saluted Hakuro before approaching the prince and his CO's commander, their guards stepping forward with his entrance. The prick of a Major General had the nerve to look incensed.

"We're in the middle of something, Elric," the fucker snarled, but Ed ignored him.

"The Führer has been assassinated," Ed announced to the room, but made eye contact with the Xingese heir. "I need to get you out of here for your own safety, until the situation is contained," Ed said to Ling, catching the surprise and instant fear in the room. No, not fear, anger.

"Wow. Impressive response time," Prince Ling offered, but the edge of strain in his body language told Ed he was on guard.

"Elric, he's not going anywhere," Hakuro claimed in a steady voice. Too steady. "As a foreign diplomat of a hostile nation, Prince Ling is to be sequestered here until further notice. Guards, secure the prince on suspicion of assassinating the Führer of Amestris. Seize him!"

"Yeah, fucking right!" Ed called as he stepped between Ling, his people, and the Amestrian soldiers in the room. "He's under the protection of Interior Security. Take it up with Mustang if you don't like it."

Hurriedly, Ed pulled Ling's hand and they shot out like a light, sprinting down the hall to the back stair, Hakuro's bellows following them. Paper flew into the air as Ed collided with a pile some idiot was carrying. He could feel more than see that Lan Fan and the old man Ling always had with him were behind them, cutting down the maze of corridors to their goal. Ed silently wondered if Ling and Kai's companion's names both mimicked each other.

Slamming threw the back door in the passage, Ed lead the trio of Xingese up to the top floor before swinging them into another labyrinth of hallways. Seeing his goal, he pulled the door open and shoved Ling inside. Lan-Fan and the older warrior squinted at his choice of a supply closet before he shut the door quickly behind himself.

"Not that I don't appreciate the drama of a good chase, but you realize this is a closet in the center of Central Command, don't you?" Ling commented only slightly out of breath. He followed Ed to the back wall lined with pens and paper as he voiced his complaint.

"Less questions, more helping." Ed huffed, shifting the shelves away from the wall. "We need to move this out a little."

"Not until you explain," Ling said, crossing his arms. Ed looked over the prince's shoulder and saw no help there.

"Uhg. Fine," he huffed. "Grumman is dead, and Mustang made it my job to get you out of here before someone kills you in the chaos or takes you into custody like that fucker just tried to do. Now help me save your ass," Ed grunted.

"How do you know I didn't arrange your Führer's death?" Ling asked, his eyes bare slits while he prompted Ed to state his allegiances.

"You have nothing to gain," Ed grunted as he pulled the edge of the heavy, full unit to give himself the space to find the secret depressor. Hawkeye had told him about it during his training after his return, and he was glad the information stuck. "Since you want to lead Xing instead of your blood thirsty brother, killing Grumman would only strengthen his power. Not really helpful to your cause," Ed explained as he glanced over the covered shelves.

Finally, he could see it. It was right there, a small square at the baseboard in the corner. Now if he could just reach it… The shelving slid away from his chest, allowing him the last few inches he needed to press it. He looked up to see Ling's hard eyes and solid nod.

"Glad you can see that," the prince said with more cheer than the situation warranted. Whatever. This guy was weird, able to switch personalities with the drop of a hat. Ok, so maybe not weird exactly, but someone with a few tricks up his sleeve.

Ed's finger depressed the hidden lever, and the recessed wall behind him, the only empty and unencumbered section, disengaged. Just as he and Ling pushed the shelves back into place, they heard a loud uproar outside their small room.

"Find him! That Xingese retch and Elric, too!" Ed heard Hakuro's second in command, Lt. Wilbur, called. "They are wanted in connection with the Führer's assassination! Anyone who gives them aid will share their fate! Now, find them! The fools fled up here, so they can't have gotten far!"

Ed leaned into the secret doorway and smuggled the Xingese 'retch' and his companions behind it's maw. Turning again, he replaced the faux wall until it quietly snicked into place, leaving no transmutation marks in their rush, something he knew their pursuers would be looking for. He was an alchemic genius, but he didn't really have the time to make as smooth a closure if he'd had to use alchemy for their exit.

A burst sounded beyond their hidden location. The room they had just vacated was filled with noise as their pursuers searched the small space for them. All four of them held their breath in the dark hallway behind the secret doorway. Hearing the supply closet fell quiet again, they let go their lungsful. Leaving the cramped space, they traveled down a small path between walls before they reached a ladder leading down.

"After you," Ling waved Ed to the forefront of the group.

"Fine, but have your guards…" Ed's low voice was cut-off.

"Lan-Fan and Fu…" Ling supplied, happily interrupting his savior.

"Yeah, Lan-Fan and Fu," Ed faced them, confirming Kai and Ling had the same entourage, "bring up the rear, and we'll keep Ling in the middle."

"I am capable of taking care of mys…" The prince tried to wave him off, but Ed stopped him.

"Like I care," Ed interrupted in a harsh whisper. "My job is to keep you safe until this blows over, so that's what I'm going to do. I have no idea how thin these walls are, so keep it down, get over yourself, and let's go."

With an exaggerated sweep of Ling's arm, he indicated for Ed to lead the way. Ed rolled his eyes, but he directed their group down the ladder. It was surprisingly illuminated by low lights along the vertical drop they were descending, just like those from Lab 5 all those years ago. They traveled in silence, but Ed kept glancing up to make sure the group stayed together. Sierra Delta Golf required that he get Ling to safety, but the addition of his personal guard seemed like a double-edged sword. They would be advantageous in protecting Dragon, but their increased number also put them at higher risk for being sighted.

Fuck it. It was better to have them than not, seeing as his death would definitely spell war with Amestris's Eastern neighbor. Not that killing Führer Grumman wouldn't lead to the same outcome if this plot didn't get cleaned up quickly.

Damn Hakuro. Fucking blaming Ling for the murder was just what they didn't need. Shit! That fucker! The Major General had been too calm, too composed when the news had broken. He'd known. It was the only explanation. Hakuro had known that the Führer had been assassinated. Would be assassinated. Had a hand in it! FUCK!

"Will you at least tell us where we are going," Ling asked above him, bringing Ed out of his mental deductions.

"The Garden. It's a brothel, but it's safe," he assured, feeling secure in the knowledge that Hakuro and whoever else was unaware of the connection between the Führer and Roy's aunt.

"A brothel?" Ling's smirk could be heard, if not seen. "Are you sure you don't just want to sweep me away, Ed?" The seductive thread wove smoothly into the voice he shared with another man on the other side of the gate. It was hard to distinguish them in this dark, enclosed space, as Ed tried not to remember Kai's attempts to bed him in German rooms too small for all five of them to share without doubling up on beds.

Ed shook his head, ignoring the sensual sounds of Ling's tease in favor of finding the bottom of their descent. He let go of the rungs and landed on his feet, light like Al's newest kitten. His brother's pension for finishing a semester with full marks and a new cat was quickly becoming a running family joke. Shaking his head from his happy thoughts, he glanced back at Ling's party, and led them on.

"Hmm… playing hard to get. Well, I'll have plenty of time to woo you," Ling promised. "It's your job to 'keep [me] safe until this blows over,' right, Ed?"

Ed was seriously regretting telling the prince that months ago he could call him 'Ed.' It was definitely going to get under his skin. He hoped it was just a way for the royal to keep himself entertained, as it had been a game for Kai. You just never knew with political types.

"But first, you need to feed me. I can't go on without some food. I'm starving," Dragon moaned, leaning his full weight on Ed's back, almost making Ed stumble.

"Quit acting like your dying, and come on," the Amestrian pushed him off. "I'm sure once we get to The Garden they'll have something there we can eat."

For the next 20 minutes Ed fended off Ling's advances or dragged a starving prince along the darkened corridor before they met a set of wooden stairs that Ed recognized.

"Ok, we're here, but you have to keep out of sight until I know for a fact it's secure. Lan-Fan, Fu," Ed addressed them, "one of you stay here with him, and make sure he stays put. The other should come with me to make sure the coast is clear." Ed figured it would save the fight of leaving them all down here without their total trust that he wasn't leading them into a trap or something. It's what he would have demanded if he were in their shoes.

"I will go," Fu nodded without any indication that the others were involved in the decision.

"Alright. Here we go," Ed hedged. He was nervous. He was not expecting to have to separate like this, but it made a hard job easier since he could trust Lan-Fan to protect her master. Now if he could trust Ling like Mustang seemed to…

"We'll head up two flights of stairs to scope out the situation. If it's normal, we'll find a nice quiet room to sit and wait this shit out," Ed planned.

"Normal," Ling playfully hummed. "You have been here before, have you?" He teased.

"Funny," Ed rejoined, not wanting to answer that _yes_ , he had been here before, and _no_ , it wasn't for the house's advertised purpose. No one would believe him. "Now stay here, and we'll be right back."

"Fine, fine," Ling said waving them away.

"You could act a little more concerned," Ed mumbled, annoyed that the royal was so care-free. Had he misjudged his involvement in the assassination plot? No, that didn't make sense, but neither did Ling's attitude until his next words choked Ed's doubts.

"You get used to it, the politics of being a Xingese prince. I've lost track of the number of assassination attempts or power plays to use me for someone else's gain," he said somberly. The reflection of Ed's own position mirrored in the noble was disheartening.

"I know what you mean," Ed caught himself saying, before shaking his head at Ling's surprised eyes. "Nevermind. Fu, let's go."

They left Ling and Lan-Fan in silence as they climbed the wooden stairs. The old man didn't talk, but Ed could feel him watching Ed with a new-found interest. They snuck up to the second floor landing then down the hallway, most of the rooms unoccupied this early in the day. Ed found what he was looking for soon, though, the one way mirrors that overlooked the main entrance to The Garden. It seemed pretty loud, however.

Ed frowned as he took in the view. There were Amestrian soldiers there, shouting with others looking to search the building. Shit. Why were they here? How would they know to come here?

"We need to move on. Your safe house has been compromised," Fu whispered as he looked down at the display.

Why would they come here? Ed racked his brain and came up empty. He'd only been here once, and only Mustang had seen him here, right? None of the staff would tell Hakuro's men, right? Wasn't that the whole point of coming here in the first place?

A loud voice caught him unaware from down below in the main entry. Ed peeked back at it's owner and frowned. He recognized the man in his mid-thirties, but he couldn't name him. He was giving orders while a small woman with dark hair and blue eyes, Sapphire, was pushed to the ground. Ed growled at the treatment. He turned to his escort and then back to the girl he had met just the other day. He was furious, but any action on his part would give them away.

Clenching his teeth, he rose, gesturing for Fu to head back the way they had come. When they reached the main floor landing, Ed stalled. H was upset at having to leave the residents to this ill-mannered group, but what choice did he have? He had to get Ling out of here before they were caught. But where?

As he considered his options, a soft echo of a door closing caught his attention, and he braced for a fight. Blinded by the light, (thanks Mustang for not telling him where the fucking lights were in this place) he made to attack before he recognized the solid figure coming towards him.

Chris Mustang walked steadily towards him, indicating for him to follow as she walked them back to the two waiting below ground.

"He called me," she said without saying who, but Ed knew. "It's not safe here. Weiss's man from the other night saw you at The Pond. You have to get him out of here," she told Ed nodding towards Ling.

"Damn. Alright. Give me a second," Ed stalled, thinking over his choices of hideouts. He immediately thought of his own home, but if they followed him here on the off chance he would make it back to a brothel he'd visited once, then his home wasn't safe either. He could go to Gracia's but endangering his mother and youngest sister seemed cruel. Maybe he could get them to the train station…

"Trains, cars, and all other ways out of the city are being searched," she said as if reading his mind. "Someone is going to notice three Xingese and a Xerxian running around."

All four of the brunets looked Ed over, his coloring's heritage standing out in their eyes. Ling's group stood in awe while the Madam just considered him. She looked at him, challenging him to be the man she had investigated to an obviously thorough extent. In fact, he wondered how she had even come to that conclusion. He'd never mentioned it to anyone except Al.

Al… Ed wondered if his brother was safe. He should be with Fletcher at Central U in class, not at home where they would be sure to look for him. He considered his next move, then said fuck it. He knew it was stupid, but he only really had one place he knew he could secure without putting more people at risk. Bonus, it wasn't on any blueprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the late post. First week of school and 2 theories classes are brutal. Anyways, I guess we'll have to go back to weekly postings for these chapters until we finish this out (I'm shooting for Fridays or Saturdays). Remember, your comments fuel my muse, so let me know what you think =)
> 
> Also, I have gotten quiet a few comments about this, so to be clear this story IS cross-posted on FF under the same author name (storylip) and title. I also have a tumblr and pintrest using storylip as my handle. So, if any of that floats your boat, I look forward to seeing you there =)


	48. Chapter 48

***I'm Sorry***

Central, Amestris, July 1920

"…remain calm and stay indoors," the disembodied voice repeated over the radio waves broadcasting the words over a frantic student body. "Conflicting reports and details are still coming in. We will update you as soon as we have more on this breaking story."

Alphonse surveyed the alchemy laboratory classroom. It had been a little over an hour or so since the news broke, and most of the other students sat in small groups, huddled together listening to the news commentary that was rocking the nation. He flicked his olive eyes beside him to Fletcher, still holding his friend's shoulder as he noticed the silent tears falling down the short blonde's face. Fletcher wasn't the only one; most of the room was in quiet shock, crying from loss, transfixed with disbelief, or blatantly angry. Alphonse was sitting in silent worry.

His concern was eating at him. Brother was at Central Command. Alphonse knew his unpredictable sibling was with Internal Security. He and their friends in the department were responsible for keeping an orderly Amestris, but the shocking death of the Führer was going to cost all them dearly. He couldn't help but worry about his brother in the cesspool of political ploys and military posturing.

While Brother had done a fair job keeping his work life and personal life separate, especially after his painful breakup with Russell, Alphonse knew his brother. There was obviously something Brother wasn't telling him. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He'd seen the cracks in Brother's bravado façade since Winry's last trip to fix Brother's melting automail connections.

The late nights at the office, the extra sparing time (whether with him in their backyard before dinner or at Central Command's training grounds with a small audience), as well as the tightness in Brother's body language were all evidence of strain. He just wished Brother would tell him what was going on instead of brushing it off or changing the subject to his schooling. Obviously, Brother was still trying to keep Alphonse from being involved with the military again, but he wished that his overprotective sibling would let him in.

"If you are just tuning in to Daily News Radio," the radio caught his attention, "I'm Casey Sullivan here with Janice Bartle, continuing our coverage… Amestris in chaos. Führer Grumman has been assassinated. Details are still unclear, however, but Major General Hakuro, in the State Department, has issued a State of Emergency and Marshall Law. Curfew has gone into effect here in Central, as well as closures to all incoming and outgoing travel."

"That's right, Casey," his steady female co-anchor said. "Citizens are asked to stay indoors. If you are not currently in your homes, we have been informed that until your area of the city has been cleared, you are to remain where you are."

Alphonse let the repeated information floating in the air over his classmates sweep across the room, trying to not let his growing fear weigh him down. From the corner of his eye, he caught the flash of unfamiliar blue eyes set beneath dark black hair staring at him through the window.

Startled, his own eyes grew wide as the slight figure held up a piece of paper with his name on it. At his frowned nod, she motioned for him to come to the window, requesting his silence with her finger pressed over her swollen and cut lip, a bruise forming on her cheek. She glanced around to make sure no one else saw her, inside or out, before repeating the gesture.

Frowning deeper at the odd sight, he acknowledged the request with another subtle affirmation. It smelled like trouble, one he was sure his brother had a hand in.

"Fletcher," he whispered out of the side of his mouth, slightly gripping the younger blonde's shoulder. He proceeded when he knew he had the younger alchemist's discrete attention. "I need a distraction," he asked his friend, hoping those curious grey-blue eyes trusted his bizarre request. Fletcher bobbed slightly in inquisitive agreement. Alphonse released his shoulder before getting up to stand and walk away.

Before he was too far, Fletcher let out a dramatic cry, gaining most of the eyes in the room. Their instructor and a group of girls in the cluster next to him moved in, trying to comfort their unsettled classmate as Alphonse circled the room. He stayed out of the other students' line of sight, keeping to the edges before finally reaching his goal.

"Internal Security," Janice was saying over the airways as Alphonse cracked the window of the preoccupied room, "headed by Major General Roy Mustang, has partnered with local authorities to search for the assailant, who sources say is a young woman, 5 foot 1 inches tall, weighting roughly 120 pounds, between 20 and 25 years old."

Alphonse took a quick inhale, hoping his brother hadn't sent the assassin to meet him.

"She has brown hair and green eyes," Janice continued, to Alphonse's relief. His visitor had raven locks and deep azure eyes. "If you see someone matching this description, call the tip line at 520-26-26. She is considered armed and dangerous, so do not approach her."

"Wh.." Alphonse began to whisper, but the young woman on the other side of the glass shushed him. She handed him a folded-up note, with a determined small smile. He looked over his coconspirator, glad she didn't meet the description on the radio, but his concern for his injured new ally sparked as he thought about the danger she was in being outside during a midday Marshall Law manhunt.

He pursed his lips, recognizing the need for stealth in her bid to stay unnoticed. Glancing down at the note, he recognized his Brother's chicken scratch. Before he could thank his messenger, she was gone. He hoped she would be alright, whoever she was.

"Again, that number is 520-26-26. In other news…" Janice repeated just before getting cut off.

"Sorry, Janice. I've just been handed this," Casey spoke over his cohost. "A search has also been instigated for the Fullmetal Alchemist, Colonel Edward Elric, and Prince Ling of Xing, both of whom are wanted in connection with the Führer's assassination. It is unclear at this time, if they are being sought as suspects in the case or simply as persons of interest."

Alphonse could feel everyone's incredulous eyes whip to him. His brother's name carried weight, and he had done his best to not throw it around. In fact, he'd avoided discussing Brother and _The Invasion_ all together. Obviously, he had gone out of his way to prove himself in his studies, becoming first in his class, but some only saw him as Fullmetal's kid brother. He turned around to see disbelief and anger in his classmates' eyes, so he pushed his unread note up his sleeve before they noticed it.

"No way!" Cried Stewart, the red headed boy near the front of the room. "No way is the Fullmetal Alchemist an assassin!"

"Yeah," chimed Laura, the girl off to the side of the station by the door. "Colonel Elric would never betray his country! Look at everything he's done since he joined the military!"

"Don't worry, Alphonse, no one is going to believe that your brother had anything to do with this," called his teacher, Professor Brand, next to Fletcher.

"I don't know," said Carol, the freckled armed blond woman with no freckles on her face. She frowned at the ground. "He was undercover for four years in a foreign country. Who knows where his loyalties are at."

"Seriously, Carol?" Gerald rebuked. He was a tan young man with hazel eyes and angular features; he studied hard to earn his average grades. Al respected his work ethic. "Do you really think a traitor just buys up a bunch of dilapidated buildings in The Row, refurbishes them, then just hand them over to the AAF without fanfare? Does he strike you as the kinda guy who's gonna kill the Führer? Guy's been a State Alchemist since I was a kid- when he was a kid! No fucking way is he gonna turn tail. No way!"

"Well, someone as powerful as him could certainly want to run the country, and who's going to stop him? Hmm? You?" Sara, the tall young woman with pale brown eyes and mocha skin, demanded from next to her friend Carol. Those two were always together in any class Alphonse had with the pair. "You can barely understand his new theoretical model, much less come up with something like that and make it work."

"So, what if he's smarter than me in theories?" Gerald pushed back defensively.

"Not just in theories, Gerry," Carol cut in snidely. "He's the Fullmetal Alchemist. He's probably the most powerful State Alchemist Amestris has ever seen. I mean, he's already the youngest Colonel since the Flame."

"So what if he is?" Fletcher stood up, causing his chair to fall back with his anger, his hands clutched into fists. "He's the most loyal, honest, selfless person I know besides Al. Ed's been nothing but a force for good ever since I've known him. He's always fought for what's right, and that's not going to change, no matter how strong he is!"

"Oh, shut up with that hero worship already. You're embarrassing yourself, Fletch," Sara laughed derisively. "No one cares that you or Al, over there, are close to him. He's only doing what the military tells him to do, just like all the other Dogs. He probably thinks it's his due to take over."

"Yeah," Carol put in, feeding off of her friend's venom. She moved her hands to her hips and sneered. "He probably thinks that since no one can beat his alchemy, he can do whatever he wants! In case you don't remember, he's the one that left after _The Invasion_. Who does that? Who just leaves all that destruction behind without a care in the world? If you ask me, he should have just stayed away!"

The room just stared at the verbal slings. Alphonse was stunned at the turn in the argument. Was this really what Amestrians were thinking behind his brother's back? Was this what they really thought of their Hero of the People?

"And who's to say his automail won't give him an unfair advantage in a fight for the top seat?" Sara added.

A few quiet students to the left of the arguing trio inhaled sharply.

"Everybody knows what power hungry assholes they are. It's no wonder he wanted two limbs of cold hard steel!" Carol cajoled in self-righteousness. "Right, Al?"

The room froze as he was addressed directly. His eyes closed as he took in those vicious words. All he could do was flit through his regained memories of his life with his brother, inhaling shallow breaths. His thoughts went next to German cities and cold streets, barbs he'd laid at his brother's door, judgment and resentment in his cruel accusations. Fighting down his harsh pain and burning vehemence as it gripped his throat, threatening to choke him in his own guilt and directed fury.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered to the anxious room, his fists clutched tightly, his nails stinging as they dug into his hands.

"See, even his brother…" Carol proclaimed in false victory.

"No," sharply biting off the selfish creature's ignorant claims. "I'm sorry you see him that way," Alphonse cut her crowing off, fury fueling his rage. "I'm sorry that my brother has let you down.

"I'm sorry that he was too brilliant to sit through school when we were young, that no one knew how to teach a genius in the countryside. I'm sorry that he devoted his entire childhood to raising me, having to provide for me after our mother died. I'm sorry he lost his limbs and needed excruciating automail surgery at 11 just to be able to stand.

"I'm sorry he felt he had to become a State Alchemist at 12 to take care of his little brother. I'm sorry he fought tooth and nail to save people he didn't know, that he would never see again, who's lives he never got to see his effect on after his _chain_ was pulled by the military. I'm sorry he bled, broke bones, and short circuited his nerve endings just to save a town to two. I'm sorry he had to fight murderers, monsters and madmen just so your peaceful lives never had to see what he's seen.

"I'm sorry he had to _go undercover_ in a country he didn't know, without friends or family to help him, not able to return until he found a way, only to come home to a broken Central, again fighting for people who he would never meet, just to have to go back. Thank goodness I was able to follow him that time. It's not like anyone else was going to do it. It's not like you would, right? It's not like you can singlehandedly stop a cold war! Not when The Fullmetal Alchemist can take on the burden, over and over again!" Alphonse was nearly screaming now, tears prickling his eyes.

"I'm sorry you don't see how his life has never been his own. How he's always got someone trying to kill him or get something from him, but big deal, right? He's just in it for the fame, the gory, and the money, right? Oh, that's right. Except he's not!" he shouted into wide frozen eyes of his brother's attackers.

"Every cenz he has that doesn't go to taking care of me and our family goes to running The Row housing the AAF manages because he doesn't have the time to. No. He's too busy trying to keep foreign dignitaries from being murdered by putting his own life on the line, too busy creating advanced alchemic theories to allow the average alchemist Brother's level of power, too busy trying to find a reason for people to _give a shit_ about him as a person, to see beyond the title Fullmetal. Everyone he's ever had feelings for wants something from him. Everyone he's ever failed to help haunts his nightmares. I'm surprised he even sleeps at all!" He was huffing now, his ranting making him feel like he'd run a marathon, tears cresting his eyes with his indignation.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I have the best brother in the world, who has bled for me, nearly died for me, for friends, for strangers, just so he could breath. So he could live. I'm sorry, I don't know why I ever thought someone like you would ever look up to my brother with anything less than awe and respect. Who needs him?"

And with that, Alphonse turned from the stunned room and walked out. He gripped his fists, rubbing the angry tears from his eyes as he made his way through the school grounds. Damn Elric anger management issues; Alphonse could never claim he hadn't inherited the famous Elric anger, he simply had a higher limit- one he had just surpassed. He tried to steady his breathing, tried to slow his heart rate. He never talked about Brother because he wanted to stand on his own. He never considered that his silence could be taken as a denial of everything Brother has done.

He took another cleansing breath, ready to right that wrong. Brother was far from perfect, what with his foul mouth, stubbornness, guilt and inferiority complexes to name a few flaws, but he was Alphonse's hero nonetheless. And Alphonse would never let his silence condemn his brother again. Finally, more in control of himself, he noticed the eeriness of abandoned pathways and court yards. That's right. Marshall Law. Curfew. Lockdown.

Well, alright then. He crouched in the nearest alleyway, when he heard troop movement echoing down the street, around the bend just out of view. Alphonse hadn't meant to let his temper get away from him, but he couldn't help the guilt and anger that had welled up inside of him. He'd thought that he had let go of his guilt from Brother taking care of him in the costliest of ways, at the expense of Brother's childhood, youth, blood, sweat, tears, arm, and nightmares. Apparently, he still felt responsible.

Well, on another note, he still needed to get inside somewhere without causing a panic. He reached his hand to the edge of the building behind his back, to support his weight as he went to poke his head out, when he noticed the light scrape against his wrist. Looking down, he remembered Brother's message. Smoothly removing his hidden missive from his brother, he finally opened it.

Surprised, he found German not Amestrian letters. This couldn't be good. Not if his brother felt he had to write in a language no one else spoke, in a note given to him by a girl he didn't know, but someone his brother clearly trusted to find him.

_Sperre den keller und bring Kais kleine schwester von der schule nach hause_

Lock the cellar and bring Kai's little sister from the school home

'Really, Brother,' Alphonse thought, 'it's already in German. Did you have to code Prince Ling and Princess May's names, too?' Well, he guessed it made since, seeing as 'Ling' and 'May' would be recognizable no matter what language they were written in. 'But couldn't you at least tell me what you wanted me to do with the basement?'

True, no one knew it was there, but did he want Alphonse to lock it or did he mean to close it off? And why would he need to unless he didn't want anyone in there? There was nothing down there except for left over furniture they had after the first batch of surplus beds and tables had been removed by Alchemic Affairs. Surely Brother wasn't stupid enough to go home when the military was searching for him and the visiting prince…

Alphonse rolled his eyes. Oh course, he was. He was The Fullmetal Alchemist. What better hiding place was there than right under their noses? Right. Ok. So… first, find Princess May. Should be easy enough with everyone else staying in place.

He glanced around the corner as the troops moved towards the faulty offices in his department. Uh-oh. Looks like they were headed for the same person he was. He heard a cautious set of footsteps sneaking along the building he had come from, in the other direction, and was not surprised to see Fletcher slinking comically through the brush. At least he had his friend.

"Fletcher," Alphonse whispered. "Over here," he motioned for Fletcher to follow him down the space between buildings, heading to cut through campus. It was a feat he'd learned to master when running between cross-campus classes, to make it on time during his packed schedule. The route the soldiers took would add an extra 4 minutes. He hoped it would be enough.

"Hey, glad I found you," Fletcher sigh of relief followed behind him, trying to keep quiet while keeping hidden on their cross-campus trek. "You were awesome in there!" His hushed exclamation proved his sincerity. "Hey, where are we going?" It was nice to know the younger blond was with him without having to ask for help.

"Thanks, Fletcher," Alphonse smiled, blushing at the reminder of his tirade, glad his friend couldn't see his pink tinted cheeks. "We have to get Princess May to safety before the military finds her."

"How do you know they are after her?" confused words followed him.

"Brother sent me a message," Alphonse passed Fletcher the note like he would a baton.

"I can't read this," the younger alchemist complained.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, it's in German," Alphonse took back the folded paper.

"Cool," quietly squealed Fletcher.

"Shh," Alphonse quieted his companion just as the school's security walked by the opening of their passageway. After the retreating feet were gone, Alphonse quickly plotted their route to the next short cut. He pulled Fletcher behind him as they ran across the open grassy quad area. There was no cover, only sparse trees and empty benches around a usually relaxing waterfall. Their footfalls were thankfully covered by the water's rushing melody. They made quick progress, making it to the faculty offices, hoping the princess was there.

Slinking under the first-floor windows to where they estimated her office to be above them, they hid behind a shrubbery. They'd been there before, during office hours to ask her to clarify quite a few points during their alkahestry course, but judging the location from the outside was not exactly easy. Fletcher pointed his best guess, and Alphonse agreed. Second floor, third window to the right.

Al drew his preferred circle, never having mastered the hand clap that was his brother's signature. He formed a brick ladder and began to climb quickly, with Fletcher on his tail. They reached her office window sill, hoping no one had seen the transmutation or were watching them.

Alphonse tapped the glass with his finger tip. Suddenly, a sharp thud came as a tiny creature with sharp teeth collided with the other side of the glass. Xiao Mei's teeth tried to eat through the clear divider, showing the promise of teeth to anyone who tried to get through, alerting the resident princess.

"Alphonse?" Squeaked the alkahestris asked as she opened the window with a shy blush.

"Princess May," Alphonse began before she spoke over him, her crush on him evident.

"You came to check on me?" she asked as she took up the tiny black and white mini-panda before her pet could try to eat them.

"We came to get you," Fletcher said over Alphonse's shoulder, trying to get her to recognize him. She merely looked back to Alphonse, nearly ignoring the younger blonde's unrequited affections. Alphonse didn't have time for the rehashing of their odd dynamic (the only bone of contention between himself and Fletcher since they reconnected), especially, when they all heard the guards coming down May's hallway. Xiao Mei hissed at the encroaching noise. "Come on, hurry!" Fletcher called in a hushed tone.

She grabbed her little animal, who shimmied up onto her shoulder as she climbed out the window, quickly closing it behind her. They snuck along the edge back to their handholds, and began to shuffle down as the knock on the door to her now empty office rang out.

"Princess May," came the muffled voice as they descended faster, reaching the ground in time to replace the ladder, the transmutation dying before her door opened. They crawled along the building's edge, taking cover where they could. Once in between another set of buildings on the other side of the quad again, the princess began to demand answers.

"Alphonse, what is going on?" she asked, nearly straining in her whisper.

"My brother sent me to come get you. We need to get to a safe place," Alphonse said, just as quietly.

"Then we should go to the embassy," she reasoned. "The Xingese guards will protect me."

"My brother must have a good reason for not having me take you there," Alphonse explained without knowing the reason himself.

"It probably has to do with the radio announcement that said he and Prince Ling are wanted for questioning," Fletcher figured.

"If you say so, Alphonse, I will go with you," she said but turned to Fletcher for the first time, "but, I am not interested in playing with children."

"Ok," Alphonse cut in. "Fletcher is only a year younger than me. Anyways," shaking his head, "we don't have time for this. We need to get out of here before they find us. So be nice." He leveled her with a steady gaze, hating that he had to be Mr. Bad Guy. Properly admonished, she bowed. "Ok. Let's go," he said, leading them yet again.

They cut across to the outer edge of campus in a straight line, through a line of evenly spaced saplings, in quiet. They only ran into another patrol once, but the police squad was already turning the corner when Alphonse led his group across the boulevard. Coming up to his street, they noticed a few soldiers standing guard at the entry to the gated front yard. Turning around, they made their way to the backside of his neighborhood. Dexterously, they climbed the fence to the backyard, and entered through the kitchen.

Alphonse didn't stop. He snuck directly to the basement door in the hall connecting the kitchen to the living room. Once everyone was inside, he closed the door behind himself.

"Ok, we should be safe now," he said as they walked down the stairs, "but I need to close this floor off. Then we just have to wait for Brother. He'll know what to do from there," Alphonse promised his companions, hoping he was right. "So stay here. I'll be upstairs in case people start asking questions, I can lead them off the scent."

"You are going to leave me down here?" asked May, her sad eyes showing her hurt.

"Fletcher is going to stay with you, right, Fletcher?" Alphonse said, hoping she wouldn't keep making those eyes at him. While he was flattered by her attentions, he couldn't return them. Not when he was in love with someone else.

"Right," Fletcher said with a happy smile. Alphonse knew Fletcher liked May, but she never gave him a chance with Alphonse as her main love interest. It was like she wanted him because she was in love with the idea of him, not for himself, and that wasn't fair to either of them. Maybe being locked in a basement with Fletcher would help her see her potential suitor for the happy, buoyant, smart, funny guy he was. Maybe it would give Fletcher a real chance.

"But why can't you stay?" May pleaded with him.

"Someone has to guard the house," he hedged. It wasn't like he wanted to deal with the military when they inevitably showed up demanding answers, but he knew they would.

"Aww, but Alphonse…" She whined.

"I've got to go, but go ahead and transmute anything you need from what's here. Don't know how long it might be. I'll send down some food and supplies as soon as I can, promise," Alphonse said, looking them both in the eye before heading back up the stairs. He wondered what else he was going to need to get them as he opened and closed the damning door.

Drawing his preferred array, he thought about the structural elements in the house, Brother's new theoretical model, and what he needed to perform. Slowly, the transmutation took effect, allowing the wall and door to meld together into a smooth, nondescript plaster. He considered being in the basement without any windows or doors, then added air holes, connecting the large open space with the ventilation system throughout the house.

As the light from the process died, he headed to the kitchen. The basement was a huge space. It was the size of the whole house's footprint. It had load bearing walls, and it was thankfully connected to the house's electric lighting and plumbing (seeing as the pipes had to run underground). It only needed additional ventilation (which Alphonse had just taken care of) and a way for them to pass food down to his guests.

In the kitchen, he thought of where the dumbwaiter sat unused behind the panel along the wall. Smiling his drew his array and extended the pulley system to the basement. Satisfied, he began to make lunch for everyone, feeling his stomach begin to complain. He wondered how much he should make, since Brother could eat twice as much as any man he'd ever met, not that he himself was much better. Still, it would be Brother, Alphonse, Prince Ling, Princess May, and Fletcher. He'd have to go shopping as soon as curfew was raised, otherwise there wouldn't be enough food to last them more than a few days. Hopefully, this whole situation would be cleared up by then…

-8-

May walked quietly through the subterranean reprieve. She had been ecstatic that Alphonse had come for her, but she had been disappointed that Fletcher had accompanied them. It was not that she did not like the boy, but he was no substitute for her Alphonse. He was so dreamy, like a white knight from her books. He was so honorable, smart and charming; it was no wonder she had fallen for him. Even if he had been her student, he was still two years older than her.

Her exploration of the space led her to notice the load bearing walls and lack of windows. Grateful for the hiding space, she wished she could add some comforts. It would be like home, on Chang lands, desolate and poor. She had never wanted to live like that again; her people should not have to live in poverty, only bolstered by the temperamental favor of an emperor she barely knew.

She began moving some of the furniture around, throwing her kunai knives onto the floor to create separate spaces. Alphonse was right, who knew how long they would be down here, so she would use her alkehestry to make it livable.

Her father had seen to her education. He had sent tutors from the capital to all of his children, had seen she had a guard, but when that woman and May's mother had died protecting her, there was no one to replace them. The Chang clan could not afford to feed and pay both a tutor and a guard, so they had decided an alkehestist tutor would give May the tools to protect herself. And it had. The Night of Bloody Tears had left most of her half siblings dead, along with her father, but she had survived.

May drew her array in the dirt floor with her toe, activating the transmutations. Fletcher, behind her, inhaled in awe of her work; she smiled at the silent praise, glad she was not alone down here after all. She wondered if her father would have been proud of her skill.

She had only met the emperor once, when she came of age. It had been a formal affair, so she had not actually had a private word with him. He had simply acknowledged her as one of his possible heirs, given the Chang clan a ceremonial gift, and sent her home. The expense of the trip had been enormous, and they had barely made it through that winter as a result.

She could only do what she could, however. With her clan hanging on by a thread, she had asked her murderous half-brother, now Emperor Li, if she could accompany his political rival to Amestris. Even as poor as the Changs were, she knew her education would be her only weapon against the blood-soaked dynasty. Her half-brother Ling was a different matter though.

"Fletcher, will you help me move these into the rooms?" she asked, still deep in thought as she organized the furniture into their living arrangements. She, Ling, Fletcher, and Edward would need their own spaces, or they would drive each other mad living in each other's pockets.

"Of course, Princess," he said, obviously happy to help. His grin at her address made her blush slightly. His responses to her were always honest and forthright, unlike some people she could name.

Ling Yao had accepted her into his traveling group without a qualm, but gave little away as to his motives for doing so. He had negotiated terms that made their murderous half-brother supply their clans with food stuffs for the next three winters, pay for all expenses incurred on this trip, the funds to settle the embassy when they arrived and keep it in good standing, and, surprisingly enough, the right to negotiate with the Amestrian government in Emperor Li's stead. How her seemingly useless, lazy, irresponsible rival had garnered such a deal was why he was the only remaining political opponent to the emperor.

Even when they had arrived in Amestris, his persona of the dull-witted prince gained him strong political allies. His first conquest was Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. It was a stroke of luck that their first governmental representative was such a prominent figure. Even in Xing, the Flame Alchemist had been a force to be reckoned with. How Ling and Brigadier General Mustang had managed to parlay during that first assassination attempt without setting off an incident would be legendary when he took the thrown. She had no delusions about that. Ling would be emperor one day, that or he would be dead.

Which brought her back to today. If the newscast had been correct, and the Amestrian military was going to try to frame Ling for Grumman's assassination, they had very little hope of dethroning Li. She could only do what she could, but if Ling was dead, war would follow, strengthening her half-brother's hold on Xing and her people would suffer for it. She could not let that happen, even if Ling would be emperor.

She wished she had the political savvy to take the seat herself, but she knew that an incompetent ruler would be just as bad as a ruthless one, no matter her intent. No, she would support Ling's bid for the throne. It was Xing's only hope, and with Ling's political allies (depending on if they would still support him after this latest fiasco), he was their only option. Now if that good for nothing would…

Blue light began to spark, illuminating the main room she had created with her walls. Fletcher came running, caught unaware by the brightness in their closed off quarters. The transmutation rolled the unfinished wall into a bright white before it shaped into its purpose. When the energy drained away, a reinforced opening led to a dark tunnel. Through it, stumbled Edward, dragging a whining Ling ("I'm hungry. Are we there yet? You said you'd feed me."), followed by Lan-Fan and Fu. She should have known those two would be in tow.

"Took you long enough," May welcomed with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! As with the chapter title, I'm sorry. I have been overwhelmed this semester and am finally on Spring Break. I have no idea when I'll be able to get the next chapter out, but know that it is coming. I am not abandoning the story now, not after posting this story for a year =)
> 
> As for the German, if I messed it up, sorry (again). I used Google translate, so let me know if it needs to be fixed.
> 
> Also, I don't have a beta, so hopefully it reads alright and I am still keeping all editorial consistency.
> 
> Additionally, my muse kicked my tail on this chapter. Plus, Roy and Ed were frustratingly uncooperative, but luckily Al and May picked up the slack. I hadn't even intended to have a May POV, but she just got up and started to share. And who am I to stop her? Hahaha. Next chapter should let us catch our breath from running around, have a little chat and tackle some issues that have popped up, namely: Xerxian heritage, Ed's status, how to get Ling off (no- not like that hahaha), who is going to run Amestris now, government heads, and much much more! So stay tuned!
> 
> Lastly, my muse feeds on your delicious comments, so let me know what you think so far, predictions, or anything really. She's just a glutton for feedback, the little fae.


	49. The Hawk's Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Beautiful Reader,  
> Thanks for coming back after my deplorable absence! Here's a quick story summary of recent events so far to get us all back up to speed...
> 
> The treacherous game of Amestrian/Xingese politics has taken a drastic twist. Instead of Prince Ling being the target of the latest assassination attempt, Fuhrer Grumman is killed by his flirtatious coffee cart mole! Newly promoted Major General Roy Mustang calls down to his team to break the news. Colonel Edward Elric has rushed off to get Prince Ling and his entourage to safety, but when they arrive at Madam Christmas's Garden, it has been compromised! Ed leads a jaded Ling and co. to his own basement instead, but not before sending his own spy to his brother at Central University. There, Al and Fletcher, who have finally publicly stood up for Ed, receive word to get May out of harm's way, and just in time! Troops have been sent to secure the Xingese royals and Ed, as 'persons of interests' in the assassination of Fuhrer Grumman, while the city is on lockdown under Major General Hakuro's Marshal Law order. 
> 
> Now, let's catch up with the team!

***The Hawk’s Eye***

Riza slammed down the phone, pain gripping her heart. Her world began to shrink in on itself, its foundations crumbling, giving way.

“Grandfather,” she whispered clenched her fist over her heart. Her honey brown eyes filling with a sharp pain as her forehead scrunched with her denial. It couldn’t be. The old man who had watched over her, guided her, was gone. Taken away with an assassin’s bullet.

She let the knowledge of her loss take hold for a moment, let it drown her, let the last of her family drift away in the second between heart beats.

Her General was all she had left. Him and their team.

“Hawkeye…” Edward called her away from the depths, concern lacing his voice. She was startled, realizing the young man across from her could see her raw emotions, unsettling him. It was what she needed to help her gain a modicum of perspective, control. Now was not the time for loss. There were people who needed her, that looked to her for direction, for support. She clamped down the shaking, knowing it was there for only a hair’s breadth and that he had seen it, but hearing her name brought her back. Her head popped up, face hard as stone.

“Foxtrot Alpha Lima,” she ordered to the room. “Send Intel to the Führer’s office. Edward, Sierra Delta Golf.”

Foxtrot Alpha Lima… Grandfather was…

The room exploded with motion. Every stressed soldier pulled their phone and dialed memorized extensions, all with the same message: lockdown procedures for command, the compound, and the city. Further details would follow. Intelligence was to send a team to the scene. All Generals were to meet in the Council room with armed escorts.

“Colonel, Sierra Delta Golf!” She shouted, pulling her gun and checking the chamber while the others flew into action, not sparing Edward any more of their attention.

She could see the news make him reel, but knew in a glance he would do his duty. Riza saw him out of the corner of her eye as his feet propelled him out the door as their activities buzzed behind him.

Good.

Riza began to feel her training kicking in. Feels her back straighten and her movements become more precise. Feels a brush of desert heat and harsh sand on her cheek, but does not let it distract her from what needs to be done now.

She issues orders with cold steel in her voice- no room for argument, not that they would have

They are off to follow their orders

So is she

* * *

She is emotionless- stone flat

Before she knows it, she is home

She passes photos along the hall- there is a man in some who will never be in another photo- but she takes no notice

She is filled with purpose- spurred to action- to be the Hawk’s Eye once again

She kneels at her bedside- not from lack of logic or an overflow of emotion- no- she is in control- in complete control

She leans lows, not breaking from the pain of loss, not from the searing agony of knowing she is now the last of her family’s line- no, she bends down to gain a strength she had long hoped to never have need of again

She takes a deep breath, not to shutter a stifled cry- her eyes are dry, clear. Sharp. Her hand steady.

She reaches out beneath the metal frame and grips the handle, knowing what it means to hold it

Her arm retracts what it sought, hauling out a worn battered case- she is not going to use it to hide, to run- no- she will use its contents to her advantage, allow it to aid her sight.

She raises it to her quilt covered bed, knowing only this case holds her cause- her name sake’s focus, its concentrated mechanical strength

It has gotten dusty, but never rusty

Her calm fingers deftly lift the metal clasps, popping it open with a satisfying thump-thump

She creaks open her vital case- inside sleeps her old companion, not a lover- no- never something as clumsy as someone to whisper words into her ear- no- something much closer, much more trustworthy

Her gaze is blinded, not by tears, but by the light shining on her steadfast tool

It had been too long since she’d held it, since she cradled its serene arm, holding it flush to her chest

She placidly checks it over, every piece slotting open to her inspection, showing her the smooth glide of well-used ministrations

* * *

In a blink, she is in her nest, huddled to the floor of the highest tower, her men following her orders, corralling their prey

Her sight shows her the way

To the right

Forward, then right

Block the exits, cut off a way out

Yes- like that

She checks her sight- the angle, the wind, the sun, the distance

Her men spring their trap as she settles down- nowhere else for her prey to go but where she wants- where she is ready

Slowly- she breathes slowly- slows her heart- feels the space between beats

There- Jean and Furey from the right, Breda and Falman at the rear, her General Mustang to the left

And their fox- their traitorous spy- their assassin standing between them all

Alice

She takes a deep breath- readies her shot- feels the lull in her heart- her finger on the trigger

"No! Jean! Step back! You’re in the way!"

In the brief mistake, Alice reaches behind herself, and the Hawk’s Eye knows what she is going for- knows the safety will be off the back up gun

Alice aims at her own head- ready to pull the trigger- knows there is no way out for her but death

There is a delay in the sound- too far away to hear it immediately- the sound of a bullet as it is released

Alice’s hand is no more the fine fingered elegance it was

Alice falls back to the ground with the concussive, consecutive bullets shocking her backwards

Breda calls over the radio, “She’ll bleed out!” but her General is there

She can see more than hear the result of his snap- Alice’s bullet wounds burst into flames, cauterizing them closed

Her General stands above the writhing figure, and she can just make out his sardonic, “You’ll live” over the open comm- his voice is flat- as if it were a shame

She could not agree more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have been away! After getting the story this far, my well meaning hubby/beta listener offered a logical addition: namely this chapter. However, when I wrote it as it is basically now, he gave some very different directions that took me almost a year to get over- no matter how I wrote it. So screw it! Writer's block be damned, and we can just have the story progress how I had originally intended 8 months ago ;)
> 
> Also, here are my thoughts on this chapter:  
> Riza Hawkeye is a bad ass. From her first chapter, in Lior after the first assassination attempt on Ling, she goes to he highest part of the city to gain perspective on the events of the day. She does so by emotionally distancing herself from what has happened. At the time, she is invested socially, politically, and professionally in the outcome. In this chapter, she does the same thing for very different reasons. Her grandfather, her last living blood relative, has been assassinated. All she can do is emotionally detach, gain distance from the event, and make herself not feel his loss by becoming the cold-hearted soldier she use to be in the Ishbalan War. In this way she can be of use, can keep her people safe, help catch the assassin; she could not have done it if she was a granddaughter seeking revenge. That's how people get killed, and she only has Roy and the team left. People she cares about. And now she knows it. They aren't just her team. Their her people. Just my own view of things.


End file.
